Lightning's Child Alternate Scenes
by The Lupine Sojourner
Summary: Warning: Romance and fluffy goodness, people. Requested alternate takes on Rowena in Middle-Earth (or somewhere else). Door is WIDE open to suggestions and feedback! Can include various AUs where the couple meet and fall in love in different ways, like in our world, for example. I'm giving this to you all as a 'thank you' present for all your support of Lightning's Child. YAY! XD
1. Alternate Opening 1 prt 1

**THIS IS JUST TOO INTRIGUING TO ME TO _NOT_ DO, SO I WENT FOR IT! HOPE YOU ALL LIKE THIS DIFFERENT TAKE ON WHEN ROWENA JOINED _LORD OF THE RINGS_! I"M TOTALLY DOWN FOR WRITING MORE IF YOU ALL ARE INTERESTED. LET ME KNOW, KAY?**

 **GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

 **~THE LUPINE SOJOURNER**

I came up almost as soon as the lightning hit me, my chest tingling painfully, the sensation spreading quickly to my entire body before slowly dissipating as I stand myself up shakily. I stood waist-deep and am hacking up water like no one's business. Coughing is no help, but it seems I can't stop. Suddenly, I am moving and there is a strong, yet gentle pressure cupping my elbows. I am seated on the shore in moments without a clue how I'd gotten there, and when I am done coughing and spluttering, I look up to see a man wearing an odd, renaissance-type outfit, eyeing me with concern.

"I came to refill our waterskins, milady. It is fortunate I came when I did. In January, it is ill-advised to go swimming in swift rivers such as this one." I then realize just how cold I truly was. My teeth chatter and I shiver in a gust of sudden wind.

"Th-thanks. I...fell- -wait...did you say 'January'?" I ask, realizing that, as far as I knew, it was April 3rd, _not_ January. The man frowns.

"Aye, January. Why is that troubling?" I exhale, rubbing my arms before sticking my hands in my armpits to warm them.

"Uh...last I remember, it was April 3rd." I confess, unsure of what else to do. The man swallows.

"Have you been underwater that entire time?" He asks, bewildered. I shake my head.

"I...don't think so." I give an especially violent shiver as a gentle wind steals what little warmth I'd gained since exiting the water. The man takes notice and curses himself under his breath.

"Apologies, my lady. I let my curiosity get away from my reason. Let me carry you to my camp." I begin to protest, but am quite suddenly being held, bridal style, in his strong, steady arms. The man even maneuvers his cloak to cover me as much as possible. I shiver, leaning into his chest, feeling at once warmer (especially in my cheeks; I wasn't used to being carried, and certainly not bridal style- -by a _male_ , no less!) and slightly comforted, which is odd. He's a complete stranger. I shouldn't be _this_ comfortable with him, but regardless, I am whisked toward a growing light, and I hear chatting, but little more, from that area. Great. He's got friends. _Lots_ of them, from the sounds of it.

"By the by, I am Boromir, son of Denethor." I nod. Why was he telling me his father's name? Regardless, I'd probably be considered weird if I didn't do the same, so...

"I'm...I'm Rowena, daughter of Lachlan." He nods, just as we come in to the campsite.

"Your mother has a fine name." I can't help a shivery laugh.

"N-no, it's my father. Sorry, he has a weird name."

"No need to apologize. Forgive my foolishness, milady."

"It's fine, Boromir." By now, the talking all around us ceases and I am settled in Boromir's lap in what I assume was his previous spot before he'd gotten up to 'refill the waterskins', whatever that meant.

"This is the Lady Rowena. I discovered her in the Anduin when I refilled our waterskins. She is soaked to the bone and in need of warmth." Boromir announces, almost daring anyone to protest. Unsurprisingly, no one challenges him. His burly frame and fierce blue-green eyes seem to still any protests any might have had as I sit awkwardly in his lap. After a moment, he unclasps his cloak and wraps it completely around me. While it was warm, being the center of attention- -and in a man's lap!- -was _not_ something I was used to.

"How came you to be in the Anduin, milady?" Another man (this one with shaggy dark brown hair and piercing grey eyes) asked, brow cocked. I frown.

"I'm...not sure." I muse, biting my lip. "One minute, I was out running in a storm cus I'm stubborn and didn't want to stop my run, and the next, I slipped and was struck by lightning. Next thing I knew, I'd wound up here." Boromir wraps me a bit tighter in his cloak as I continue shivering.

"You were struck by lightning?" He asks. I nod.

"Yeah. Somehow, I survived." Boromir wraps his arms a little tighter about me.

"That is no small feat, Rowena, even for men." I scowl a little at that, but keep my snarky comment in. "But...why were you running, Lady Rowena? What pursued you?" Boromir asks, arms loose but strong around my frame. I blush a little at his brazen familiarity, but smile, his question amusing me for some reason.

"Nothing pursued me. I run for exercise. It helps your...everything stay healthy." I explain, feeling suddenly exhausted and a deal warmer. Boromir then hands me a chunk of bread and cheese.

"Here, milady. You should eat. Nearly drowning drains even the hardiest of men, and I can scarce imagine what lightning took out of you." I gratefully thank him before digging in. Being a fan of cheese, I can honestly say that this was the most _glorious_ cheddar I've ever had the pleasure of eating. But maybe I'm just hungry. 'Hunger is always the best seasoning', my mom used to say. I bite my lip.

Hopefully, she isn't running around Inverness looking for me, but who knows how long I was out? I shake myself; _live one moment at a time. For now, enjoy getting warm and the cheese._

"Thank you, Boromir. And, really, you can just call me 'Winnie' or 'Rowena'. No need for all that 'my lady' business. Honestly, I'm not used to it." Boromir nods.

"As you wish, milady." I flush a bit at the Princess Bride reference, but knew, deep down, that he had no idea it was from a movie (most likely) and as such couldn't possibly know why I was suddenly nervous, so I force myself to calm down before I had to explain myself.

"So...just so I know what to call you all, who are you people?" I ask as politely as I could, still shivering subtly. The shaggy-haired man with grey eyes leans forward, bowing his head a little in greeting.

"I am known as Strider, Rowena, but my name is Aragorn." I nod.

"Pleasure to meet you." I reply. The incredibly handsome, blonde man beside Aragorn is next to dip his head. I then raise a brow as I notice the pointed ears. Was this some cosplay camping thing, or...what?

"I am Legolas of the Woodland Realm, Rowena." I smile and repeat my reply to Aragorn, setting the ear thing aside for now. The red-head opposite Legolas at the fire stands and I find that he would only stand about up to the start of my ribcage. I decide not to comment, though, as he sweeps into a small bow.

"I am Gimli, son of Gloin." I finish the bread and cheese and move off Boromir's lap and settle myself a bit closer to the fire to warm myself and shake Gimli's hand as four young boys approach and it isn't till a 'boy' with curly sandy brown hair, twinkling blue eyes, and a pleasant, rounded face grins and offers his hand that I realize these are simply tiny men, a bit like Gimli! His cheeky smile wins me over instantly.

"Meriadoc Bradybuck, at your service!" I shake his proffered hand, grinning.

"I'll hold you to that, Meriadoc." I tease, winking, before another (this one with darker brown hair, happy green eyes, and a narrower face) eagerly pushes Meriadoc aside as he shifts his feet and tells me he prefers 'Merry'.

"Peregrin 'Pippin' Took!" He chirps. I laugh and shake his hand. A third, this one slightly chubby with golden brown hair and kind brown eyes shyly steps over at Merry and Pippin's insistence.

"Hello." He greets. "My name is Samwise Gamgee, but most folk just call me 'Sam'." I clap his shoulder gently, smiling encouragingly.

"Awesome meeting you, Sam." I tell him. He smiles nervously and scoots aside for the final member to come forward. This guy has raven black hair with weary, yet striking blue eyes. I smile and shake his hand.

"Frodo Baggins." I then notice that, though the taller men had introduced themselves with their father's names or where I assume their homes are, these four little guys gave me what appeared to be last names. I frown.

"Does everyone here have a last name, or is it just these four?" I ask. Aragorn tilts his head in confusion.

"What do you mean, Rowena?" I cock a brow.

"Merry Brandybuck, Pippin Took, Sam Gamgee, and Frodo Baggins." I repeat. "They have last names. But you just told me your name is Aragorn, Boromir as 'son of Denethor', Gimli as 'son of Gloin' and Legolas 'of the Woodland Realm'. Do you have last names?" Boromir frowns.

"I suppose...not, Rowena. But you yourself gave me your name as 'daughter of Lachlan'." I nod.

"Because I felt it would be rude not to, since you had. My last name is O'Neil."

"I see." Boromir replies. "Are you from the Shire, then?" He asks.

"Where?" I reply, thoroughly confused.

"The Shire, Rowena." Pippin replies, aghast I didn't know what they were talking about. "Surely, you've heard of the Shire?" I shake my head, then something clicks. Shire, Aragorn, Boromir...Gimli...frick. Either these guys are _hardcore_ cosplayers, or…I'm somehow in Middle Earth.

Fudge.

"I...think I have, now I think about it." I muse absently. Crud! Mom and Dad- -well, _mom_ just yet- -would be worried _sick_! If I've been missing since last April...oh, Ifreann, please tell me that isn't true! "Um...where are we now?" I ask, trying not to sound as panicked as I felt.

"We are nearly nine days on the Anduin from the Falls of Rauros, milady, just outside Lothlorien." I nod. Great. I'm stuck in _Lord of the Rings_! I had never even finished reading the books, unfortunately, but I'd seen the movies when I was younger. My memories are fuzzy, but this is sounding more and more like I was actually somehow _in_ Middle-Earth! Didn't...wasn't there something bad just about to happen? Like...an ambush or something? I can't remember. There was a _lot_ of fighting in those movies.

"Cool." I reply awkwardly upon realizing I had yet to answer. "Uh...where are we going?" I ask, fearing I knew it was somewhere unpleasant and...wasn't there a volcano involved at some point?

"We are heading down the Anduin toward Mordor on a private errand, but the precise route is causing disagreement between our leaders." Frodo tells me, uttering the last part softly, nodding to Aragorn and Boromir, who shift uncomfortably. Suddenly, Gimli stands.

"I believe this has been enough talk for one night, my friends." He says. "It is time to retire for the night." Boromir stands, as well.

"I shall take first watch." He mumbles, striding to the outer edge of our camp before returning with a sleeping bag-looking thing and holding it out to me. I cock a brow. Was it really that dangerous here that we needed to guard our camp?

"You may use my bedroll for tonight, milady." I shake my head.

"Oh, no thank you, Boromir. I'll be okay, if you just lend me your cloak instead. It's warm enough." Boromir looks aghast at this.

"No, milady!" He protests. "You shall catch disease if you only have a cloak to fend off night's chill." I smile at his concern.

"I'll just sleep close to the fire, then. Trust me, I'll be fine." Boromir doesn't look convinced, but eventually sighs heavily and drops the bedroll before leaving to take up watch. I swallow, wondering exactly _why_ we need to have a watch, but push that thought away and wrap myself tighter in Boromir's cloak and settle down as close as I dare to the fire, using the rolled-up bedroll as a pillow.

Soon enough, sleep creeps in and I sink into it's embrace eagerly.

=#=#=#=#=

"-e done with her?"

"In truth, I do not know, Boromir. There is something she refuses to tell us, something that frightens her. I wish to know what it is before I make any decision."

"By _Eru_ , Aragorn! She's a _lady_ , lost and alone in the Wild!" Boromir protests as loud as he dared.

"A lady we know nothing of, beyond her name and that of her father. I have never met a stranger woman." Legolas points out. "There is something...unusual in her countenance and demeanor, that much is plain. It would be prudent to gather more facts before making any kind of decision, Boromir. That does not mean that we shall leave her to her fate, necessarily." I stand, pretending to have just woken up.

"Good morning." I greet, stretching. Boromir smiles at me and I grin back, handing him his haphazardly bundled cloak and bedroll.

"I trust you slept well?" He asks politely, returning the cloak to his shoulders. I shrug.

"Well as can be expected when one is out camping."

"Are you well?" He then asks worriedly. I nod.

"Yes." He breaths out in relief.

"I feared you would take ill, mil- -Rowena." I shake my head, smiling.

"No, I'm fine." Legolas then steps forward, dipping his head in greeting.

"Pardon my asking, Lady Rowena, but...where do you come from?" I swallow, trying to think of a place I knew that would be plausible and not raise more questions.

"Oh, a small village tucked away in...the mountains." I reply.

"Which mountains?" Aragorn asks. "I know these lands well." I lick my lips. Oh, crap!

"Oh! Those ones, over there!" I say, pointing to a mountain range a deal away in the distance.

"The Misty Mountains?" Boromir asks. "I didn't know there were villages there." I take a breath. Keep calm and think of something!

"Well, we like it that way. I'm one of the few people that leave. Mostly, we're content to simply stay put."

"And what is this village called?" Aragorn presses. I can feel their eyes gauging me, so I smile.

"Inverness." I reply easily. After all, if it were a secret village, no one would doubt the title, right? Aragorn frowns, hand straying dangerously close to the hilt of a sword hooked in his belt. Whoops.

"I can tell you're lying." He growls. I take a step back.

"No, really! I _am_ from Inverness!" I squeak, hands up defensively. It was the truth. It's just that Inverness was back on Earth, not here in Middle-Earth. Aragorn inches his hand nearer to the sword, almost unconsciously. I take another step back. I then decide it might be in my best interest to just confess and see what happens. After all, these men could easily overpower me and kill me. "I only lied about it being in the Misty Mountains. It's...on another world. I...don't know how, but I am from another world, and when the lightning hit me, I ended up here, in the Anduin." I explain. "I didn't think it was wise- -until now, that is- -to tell you all that."

"There is still more you hide." Legolas murmurs suspiciously. "Your heart races and your pupils dilate."

"Only that...you all are characters in, uh, plays and books in my world." I rush to explain. I'd really rather _not_ be attacked by three angry men. "It's called _Lord of the Rings_ , and I've seen the plays, but sadly haven't read the books." Aragorn frowns.

"You know how this adventure ends, then?" He asks, brow raised disbelievingly.

"I have vague, fuzzy memories only. I could only tell you story points- -highlights, really. But...if I do that, it might change what's about to happen drastically."

"How?" Boromir asks. That's a good question. I swallow.

"Well, there are choices you make, right?"

"Aye."

"You'd change your original choice if you knew it would end badly, wouldn't you?" I ask rhetorically. Boromir nods.

"Of course."

"Now, if those choices were different than they are in those books and plays...it could cause drastic changes in the timeline. Better not to risk that, right?" Aragorn sighs.

"I see your point, Rowena. I apologize for my brashness and for frightening you." I shake my head.

"No, I wouldn't have trusted me, either, in your shoes. You're okay."

"In either event, I believe I slightly overreacted." He says, dipping his head in apology again.

"Like I said, I'd do something similar in your position, Aragorn. It's okay." Aragorn sighs.

"Many thanks, milady. Now, let us rouse our companions and be on our way. Perhaps Rowena can fit in your boat, Boromir." He muses. "We used it mainly for supplies, and Merry would fit with Frodo in my boat." Boromir nods, and I swear his cheeks are a little pink, in spite of the cool air. Did men and women not share a boat in Middle-Earth? Were we breaking some kind of rule here?

Oh, well. _Everyone_ but me is male here! We don't have a choice!


	2. Alternate Opening 1 prt 2

**Indigo575: Hello again! ;) Thank you for being the first reviewer! XD I am leaving this story largely up to my readers' requests, but will most likely come up with my own stuff, on top of that. If you think of anything, let me know! ;)**

 **Me and Not You 1001: Rowena just thought what first came to her head, though I agree it was quite humourous! XD Your requested scene is being written, dear, and should be up soon. This alternate opening just wouldn't let me go! :)**

 **GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

 **~THE LUPINE SOJOURNER**

Turns out, I was _not_ breaking any rules. It was just that Boromir was a little nervous about having a woman in his boat for who knows how many days, _all_ day.

That was about three days ago now. Since then, I'd learned that Boromir had a younger brother, Faramir, and that Legolas was an Elf (a very old and very wise people in Middle-Earth, blessed with immortality and enhanced wisdom). Not just any old Elf, either. No, he was the Prince of the Woodland Realm, whatever the Woodland Realm was.

Oh, and Frodo was adopted by Bilbo Baggins, the very main character of potentially my favorite fantasy book; _Hobbit_. However, Frodo didn't seem much for talking. He answered my questions out of sheer politeness, but nothing more. And his hand would stray every now and again to his shirt, clutching at it as if it were a lifeline. I flash back to the first time I mentioned it to him.

" _Frodo, you're doing it again." He frowns._

" _I'm doing what?" His hand stays where it is, grabbing the ring tighter than ever._

" _Gripping your shirt. I see you do it a lot. Why is that?"_

" _...My business is my own, Rowena. I would have you remain out of it." He replies, getting a little testy and his face twists into an ugly look of distrust and...greed? Perhaps I'd read it wrong in the instant it was there before it morphed back into the pleasant face I was used to. "That is, ah, if-if you don't mind, milady." He mumbles, and I'd swear Boromir was glaring at Frodo when I turned back to my book._

Another interesting thing I learned was that a wizard, Gandalf, has just died in a place called Moria, wherever that was. Due to a Balrog (I had _no_ clue what it was and clearly I wasn't going to find out), and that was right before they spent a month (they think) in Lothlorien with Galadriel and her husband, Celeborn. It was weird, but...I'd nearly cried when they told me. Like...I knew him, personally. Like I was more than a stranger hearing a tale of his death.

They told me I'd joined them their first night since leaving the Golden Wood, as Lothlorien was sometimes called. I'd nodded and blinked back my tears, praying no one saw them.

All this information was well and good, but I'm getting increasingly frustrated that _no_ one seems to want to tell me just _why_ we were canoeing down the Anduin or anything of any real significance. I knew they had some big, important mission, but no one seemed to want to discuss just _what_ that mission was with me. This left me bored on more than one occasion and for longer than I cared to tell them. One benefit of this boredom was that I learned that I had a pair of auburn red leggings, a leather jerkin that might serve as a light armor, another shirt (this one a nice cornflower yellow) and my glock, of all things, complete with hip holster and ammo box in my satchel.

However, searching the satchel was only exciting once, so I'd taken to reading the book Aragorn none-too-subtly put with my satchel (miraculously not very damaged from my dip in the water, somehow) before we got in the boats. A _lot_. Turns out, it was a book on medicine. Evidently, he seemed to think I needed to learn medicine, but why was unclear. It seemed important to him that _I_ receive the book. And read it. So far, it was actually more interesting than it first appeared. Mainly because it dealt primarily with which herbs and plants healed in some way or another.

It isn't until about an hour and a half before noon that the slightly awkward silence makes me decide to at least find out where Aragorn got the book.

"Hey, Aragorn?" I ask, voice a little softer than normal conversation levels, for some reason. The addressed man turns to look at me.

"Yes, Rowena?"

"Where'd you get this book? It's a really interesting read." He hesitates for a moment before answering.

"The Lady of Lothlorien instructed me to give it to 'a woman who would join the quest soon'. I can only assume she meant you, so to you I gave the book." I nod. It was a start, but the answer seemed both detailed and still somehow vague, as if there were still things I had yet to find out. So I decided to try and see what I could learn while Aragorn was in a talking mood.

"And who is this 'Lady of Lothlorien'?" Surprisingly, it was Gimli who spoke up first, eyes reverent and adoring.

"She is the fairest creature in Middle-Earth, by far. Galadriel makes even the most captivating sunrise seem insignificant in comparison." He says in awe-struck, almost loving tones. I smile.

"Sounds like someone is a little star-struck." I tease, chuckling. Gimli flushes and grunts in gruff disapproval.

"Mind yer tongue, lass. She be a married Elf-maid, and I respect that. You'd do well to do likewise." I hold my hands up, still smiling.

"Meant no offense, Gimli. DIdn't even know she was married. I'd like to meet this Galadriel, some day." I point out placatingly. Gimli's head nods.

"Indeed, lass. She'll take yer breath away, she will." Oh, yes, he was _quite_ taken with this woman. Quite taken indeed. I decide against teasing the rather gruff Dwarf further and settle myself back down and read more of the book, trying to keep myself from getting bored. Things tended to get weird when I was bored.

"Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer…" I sang under my breath, my fingers tapping the page I wasn't really reading any more to the tune of the song. Too late, it seems. I was already bored. "You take one down, you pass it around. Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall!" It didn't occur to me until halfway through the verse that I was getting louder and that I had stopped reading altogether. By then, Merry and Pippin seemed to perk up and chime in, their singing voices putting mine to shame. This continued for two bottles- -er, verses- -before Boromir, while chuckling, decided to end our song.

"Perhaps we should head to shore and enjoy a luncheon together?" He suggested, looking to Aragorn for approval. I'd quickly picked up on the fact that Aragorn was the de-facto leader here and that everyone looked to him for guidance. Aragorn nods and we curve toward shore at a decent-looking spot for a bit of food.

"Wherever did yeh hear that song, lass?" Gimli asks, amused, as we haul the surprisingly light boats up to shore. "To be frank with you, it doesnae seem like yer type of song." I can't help a laugh.

"That's just cus we're still getting to know one another, Gimli. Don't you have songs like that here?" He shrugs.

"Of a similar subject, perhaps, but that tune seems more...simple than others I've heard." I shrug.

"It's just a song people in Scotland- -anywhere in my world, really- -use to pass the time." Boromir steps forward to pass me a spare waterskin to go with my boiled eggs and bread.

"Perhaps it'd be best to not sing so loud in future, though." He advises with a smile I fear may be at least partially forced. I tilt my head and smile.

"Why wouldn't we be able to sing loud?" I ask, trying to convey nothing but innocent curiosity and not let out my slight irritation at being left out of virtually anything of importance.

"It is merely that- -who knows who may be listening?" Boromir counters hesitantly. I nod, crossing my arms nonchalantly. At least he replied. Aragorn and Legolas apparently think it's funny to act like I hadn't said anything.

"And is there a reason you don't want anyone to know what we're doing or where we are?" I ask. My tone and/or expression must have showed my emotions, because Boromir flinches as if what I'd said struck him physically.

"I- -that is not for me to answer." He replied tentatively. I bristle and huff, nearly stomping my foot in frustration, but manage to reign that impulse in.

"Boromir, _please_! It's not like I'm gonna go shout it out to the world or anything!" I blurt out in rising anger and frustration. "I'm just _so_ tired of not knowing anything about what is happening!" Before I know it, I'm five feet closer to Boromir and my fists are clenching at my sides. "If I am going to travel with you all for who knows how long, I think I ought to know where we're going and what we're doing. Right?!" I was aware that my voice was nigh on a roar, but it felt _so_ good to _finally_ ventilate the rising emotions I'd felt since I'd first been denied information. After I was through talking, I stood there, panting and almost regretting the harsh words. Almost. Aragorn came forward and sighed.

"I suppose you have a point, Rowena. But ours is a mission of deadly secrecy. _None_ must know of it." I nod, glad to at least be making some kind of headway at last.

"That I can do, I assure you." I reply, trying not to seem so eager for information. Aragorn, unfortunately, seems to pick up on that eagerness and sighs again.

"We intend to brave the land of Mordor and cast an item of indescribable power back into the fires it came from to destroy it, preventing Lord Sauron, the very embodiment of evil, from returning to Middle-Earth." I swallow. "This is no simple quest we are on; Sauron's forces are massing and preparing for battle, and his spies are everywhere." Now I knew why they wanted this mission to remain secret. And why they hadn't told _me_ about it.

After all, how convenient was it that they happened upon a woman in need of assistance in the Anduin in _January_ , when any other sane person would have avoided swimming if at all possible? And how suspicious did my constant curiosity make me seem to these men, who wanted nothing more than to ensure they succeed in this mission? I nod.

"...Okay. Makes sense." Everyone around me shifts awkwardly, as Aragorn gives me an apologetic glance, as does Gimli and Boromir, the only other two in my line of sight. Legolas then comes striding into camp from wherever he was (scouting, wasn't it?), bee-lining straight for Aragorn, something unsettling in his body language. He whispers something urgently to Aragorn in what sounds like a foreign language. Aragorn replies in what I assume is that same language before heading toward the center or camp, packing things up.

"I'm afraid we must press on. The day is getting away from us and we have far to go to get to Mordor." Is the only thing he says. Boromir goes over to Aragorn, sensing the same as I had, evidently, but they hold a whispered conversation that I was- _-again-_ -not a part of. Boromir flinches at something Aragorn said, cursing and grinding his teeth in frustration. I pretend to be helping gather the supplies and waterskins, coming conveniently ever closer to the conversing men.

"-ver leave us alone?!" Boromir was hissing in disgusted frustration.

"I fear not, til they have the Ring and deliver to Sauron." Aragorn replies lowly, face and tone matching Boromir's disgust. "We must be silent and use the river to propel us faster than the Uruk-Hai." Boromir nods. Within five minutes, we're back on the water.

=#=#=#=#=

"What's an Uruk-Hai?" I ask, unable to bear not-knowing. Boromir starts, looking shocked, but he recovers quickly before anyone can notice and ask about it.

"The foul servants of Sauron, horrid, dark mutations that think only of dark and fell deeds their master wishes them to perform." I nod grimly. It pleased me more than I care to admit that he wasn't about to berate me about my eavesdropping...in front of everyone, at least.

"I think I _may_ have seen one dodge behind a tree just before Legolas came back into camp. At the time, I thought it was just an animal, but now…" Boromir grinds his teeth and paddles harder.

"Thank you for telling me, milady." Aragorn and Legolas seem to pick up on Boromir's tension and increased their speed to match his. Only the Hobbits are unaware of the danger, but can pick up on the unspoken forbiddance of speaking and the tension the humans felt.

=#=#=#=#=

This continued until nightfall, and as we turned silently to the shore again, the tension only rose. Finally, Pippin tugs my sleeve.

"Is there something wrong?" He asks, fear and worry clouding those innocent blue eyes. I manage a smile, my initial reluctance to tell him melting at the look in his eyes.

"We're...not sure yet, Pip. We're just cautious in case it _is_ something." I reply. Pippin frowns.

"Is it that party of Uruk-Hai Haldir mentioned?" He asks. I look to Boromir, who sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, but nods. Pippin's face drains.

"I...I thought we'd lose them by taking the river!" He squeaks. I kneel down to his level, hands on either of his shoulder.

"Pippin, no matter what happens, if there _are_ Uruk-Hai- -whatever they are-" I am quick to add when I remember that I wasn't supposed to know what an Uruk-Hai was, "-out there, I'll protect you as best I can. I promise." I assure him and Pippin takes a deep breath and manages a weak smile.

"Th-thanks, Rowena, but I think I can handle it." I give him a slightly sad smile. He has _no_ idea what battle and war does to people. My uncle's war stories in the army were bad enough just _hearing_ them. _Living_ them was an entirely different matter.

"My promise still stands." I point out. He nods.

"I know." Boromir eyes me curiously.

"What weapon do you have?" He asks. "I see none on you." I smile.

"You'll see."

=#=#=#=#=

Unfortunately, those words came true at about noon the next day.

It was when we were getting lunch (as quietly as possible) when we noticed that both Boromir and Frodo were nowhere to be seen. I look around the immediate area and ask Merry if he's seen Boromir, not wanting to worry him.

"I think he went to get firewood." He replies. His eyes then widen. "Wait…" He gazes around the campsite. I shush him before he can get hysterical and panic.

"I don't know where Frodo is." I tell him. "But I think Boromir is with him, and we can find them. Get Pippin, and we'll start looking. Okay?" He nods.

To cut a long story short, not five minutes later, we have to dodge into the underbrush as what I assume are Orcs come thundering past us, but we'd found him and somehow, Merry and I knew what he was doing; he was taking the opportunity to continue his journey to Mordor. Alone.

And we couldn't do anything but let him go. Poor Pippin needed to be told after he ran forward to retrieve Frodo, but he reluctantly agreed. I take a breath, knowing I had no choice but to use my glock. I grab it and the holster and ready it.

And then I saw it. An Orc, and it was _nasty_ , dark brown, and snarling. There were at least fifteen of them running toward us, growling and hissing. I cock the gun, drawing the hammer back.

"Run, Frodo." Merry orders. " _Go_!" He snaps as we turn to the approaching Orcs. "Hey! Over here!"

"This way!" Pippin added, the three of us jumping around and waving wildly before I took aim at the nearest Orc.

 _Bang!_ The shot rang out, leaving a deafening silence in it's wake.


	3. Alternate Opening 1 prt 3

**Me and Not You 1001: My pleasure! *sweeps into bow* XD Anyway, I decided against the typical appearance in Rivendell or the Shire for a Tenth Walker and went with something a tad more original. As for the Man of Gondor...you shall see. Oh, and your requested scene will be posted next! I'm almost done with it, so it'll be up soon! YAY!**

 **GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

 **~THE LUPINE SOJOURNER**

The silence lingered as no one seemed to know what to do. I took the moment to fire again and it was like the shot to start a race, kicking everything back into high gear.

"Go!" I snap, firing over my shoulder. "Merry! Pippin! _Go_!" They finally shake off their stupor and sprint beside me along the base of the hill we were on.

"The woman comes, too! Grab her and the Halflings!" I hear an Orc that seems nastier than the others growl and in charge and pale. Why would- -oh. My gun. It was an unheard of invention in this world. And I'd just drawn a target on my back by using it.

 _Crap_. I set my jaw and feel rage and determination rear up inside me like twin beasts. These things would _not_ get what they want.

"What _is_ that thing?!" Pippin squeaks, pointing to my gun with wide, apprehensive eyes.

"It's called a pistol, or a glock. Keep going!" I reply quickly, urging the Hobbits along, while trying to fire at our pursuers. Needless to say, it was hard to keep the Hobbits moving. Merry and Pippin cringed and held their ears whenever I fired, all but halting.

The situation only gets worse when another group runs up from the front. We skid to a halt and I freeze up, completely blanking on what to do. There's no way I can shoot _that_ many Orcs before they get us.

We're screwed, doomed to whatever these Orcs wanted us for. They halt, savoring their victory, slowing just enough to draw out the tense atmosphere. I begin trying to make as large a dent as I can before we're overrun, when out of nowhere comes Boromir, sword in hand and determined, raging eyes blazing as he battled the foul things. I shook off my shock and continued thinning the crowd as fast as possible.

"Run! Take the little ones and run, Rowena!" Boromir calls over his shoulder. I scowl at him, though he couldn't see it.

"No way! No man left behind!" I snap back, felling an Orc just about to slice my friend's back open. Then, just as I'm firing again, I see Merry and Pippin stabbing away at Orcs with short swords I hadn't seen before on them. There are still too many Orcs, however, and I begin to see why Boromir demanded I run. "Where would I even go?" I ask. Boromir doesn't halt his slaying, but looks relieved I'd finally gotten the message.

"Take the Hobbits and find the others. I shall hold the Orcs off as long as possible and, Valar permitting, rejoin you." He replies. I suddenly recoil.

"Wait...no. Come with us, and we'll kill as we go. Together." I suggest, when suddenly, I run out of bullets in the magazine. Cursing, I pop it out and kneel. Merry and Pippin seem to get that Boromir and I need assistance and the three form a kind of ring around me as I scramble to get the bullets into the thrice-cursed magazine, Merry and Pippin slicing with their small swords.

"What are you doing?" Boromir hisses when it takes longer than half a minute. I scowl at him.

"Reloading! This thing needs bullets, and they keep slipping cus my hands are sweaty!" I retort heatedly. Then deflate a little, realizing I was just stressed. "Sorry, I'm just- -got it!" I cry excitedly, cocking the gun, drawing the hammer back, and standing one fluid motion, firing into the Orcs again as we take off, Boromir blowing on a horn at his waist. Unfortunately, we still have Orcs on our tails, so we try to make it to the best guess we had as to where the others were. We'd split up to look for Frodo (and Boromir, but that's beside the point right now) and as such didn't know _precisely_ where they were.

Then, after who knows how long running and firing and slicing and horn-blowing (and rock-tossing from Merry and Pippin- -shockingly accurate rocks, too), the unthinkable happens. Boromir was hit square in the shoulder, the arrow scratching the top of my ear. I didn't even notice the blood or the pain, the glock hanging numbly in my hands in shock, the rocks clattering to the ground from the Hobbits.

Rage slammed into my very soul and I whirl, roaring as I try to kill the scummy filth that had hit my friend. Then Boromir, the idiotically lovable gentleman, decided to keep fighting as if nothing had happened, a hint of desperation in his eyes now. I felt it, too, as Merry and Pippin drew their swords again and charged with him, tears in their eyes and outcries of forced bravery in their throats. Then I realized.

I _had_ to protect them. They could _not_ be taken. I don't care if _I_ die, as long as _they_ are safe. They're too young to go through whatever vile, disgusting thing we're wanted for. So I fire again, and again, and again. But it doesn't matter.

Boromir takes another hit to the stomach, grunting in agony and falling to his knees. This time, my friend's eyes locked with mine and I could see his fear and desperation to protect us in them, even as a different emotion takes those grey-blue eyes. Was it...sorrow? Fondness? ...Resignation? If the first arrow filled me with rage, this one gave me fury to outmatch any rage I'd previously felt. I finally had my target, and I aligned my gun to shoot his smug face.

However, just then, the glock clicks empty again, even as Boromir gets up and charges, roaring as he continues fighting.

That poor, brave man. He knew he was doomed, he _knew_ it, but he would be _damned_ if he went down without one ifrinn (hell) of a good fight. All I could do for Boromir now was charge with the Hobbits, managing to grab a dead Orc's sword on the way.

It did _nothing_. A fist slammed into my stomach and before I could even properly feel the blow, I was slung like a sack of potatoes over the Orc's shoulder, a loop of coarse rope already starting to cut into my wrists. The diabhal thing hadn't even slowed down. I blearily looked over as I struggled to breath to see Merry and Pippin in a similar position as they protested and beat on their captors' arms and chests, eyes locked on the piteous sight of our friend with his knees in the dirt, defeated and left for dead, a third arrow stuck halfway between the other two.

The indignity and brutality of Boromir's death crashes into me then and I start sobbing in frustration and rage at these monsters and my helpless position. However, my hip grinds into the shoulder of my carrier and all I can do is try to refrain from hurling at the nauseatingly bouncy ride.

=#=#=#=#=

Being tucked under an Orc's arm was _not_ better than being slung over it's shoulder. But at least I didn't feel up to hurling as much. I was now properly tied, with ropes tightly- _-too_ tightly- -bound around my wrists, my ankles, and just above my knees. Poor Merry and Pippin were in a similar position, carried in a kind-of piggyback ride that looked extremely awkward and uncomfortable, but I suppose our captors weren't interested in keeping us comfortable, just alive...I think. Now, it was nearing sunset. Hopefully, that meant that we'd be stopping and resting soon. So far, though, no such luck.

Then, suddenly, we stopped and were savagely dumped on the ground, my knees grinding painfully together and I'm sure my shoulder would have a severe bruise now.

"'Ere! Woman!" It took only a second to realize they were addressing me before a poorly crafted waterskin crashed into my temple. I gave a cry of pain and overbalanced, collapsing to the ground and probably bruising my other shoulder. This apparently was amusing to the Orcs, and there was a lot of rough, crass-seeming laughter amongst the troop.

"Oi! Leave her alone!" Merry roars, trying to stand valiantly, only to be brutally kicked back down. He stayed there.

"Stop! _Stop_!" I cry, somehow managing to work my slow, awkward way over to my friend as that horrid laughter rang out again. Thankfully, the Orcs had enough sense to move aside and let me look Merry over. Thankfully, he seemed alright, just unconscious. A rage filled me and I glare over my shoulder. "You could have _killed_ him!" I snap. A gnarly, knobbled, iron-shod Orc (maybe the one that's been carrying me) leered right in my face.

"'E's breaving, ain't 'e?" He asks. I narrow my eyes, refusing to give in.

"Only just barely, you monster!" HIs hand slapped my cheek with enough force to send me reeling a few feet.

"Tha's what you get fer backtalking me, yeh hear?!" He roars. I blearily nod my head, spitting out blood from a cut inside my cheek. "Now, you might try sleepin', while youse can." He growls, poking my chest and jeering briefly when I fall before leaving to rejoin his group. Pippin is by my side as fast as possible.

"Oh, Winne, your cheek." He whispers, using the nickname I insisted the Fellowship (as I learned the group was called) use, hand rising to touch it and halting just before his fingers made contact. I automatically flinch away.

"It hurts now, but I'll be fine." Pip's eyes shine with an almost child-like reverence.

"That was so brave! If only I could move faster, I'd have been there to help you!" I shake my head.

"Don't stand up to them, Pip. I don't want them hurting you." I reply. Then, a kick lands on the small of my back, letting me know we were being guarded closely now.

"Oi! Shut it!" An Orc growls before stalking back to his station. Pippin then shocks me by snuggling up to my chest, and I was left to try and awkwardly get my arms around him.

"Well, goodnight, Winnie." I kiss the back of his head.

"Night, Pip." I reply softly before trying to get a little sleep.

=#=#=#=#=

It seems like only moments later that I was grabbed, hauled to my feet, Pippin roughly torn from me, and we were all slammed on an Orc's shoulders like my friends had been yesterday. The ropes on my legs were untied and re-tied so fast, I could barely register that they'd been freed and tugged mercilessly around the Orc's armored waist, which meant I had armor pinching and grinding into my legs, not that I dared complain about it out loud.

It was about half an hour later when I notice Merry has yet to wake up. Pippin calls his name, to no effect and I begin to grow worried. Not as worried as when our captors halt and several more smaller ones come out from behind the rocks.

"You're late. The Master grows impatient." The leader growls. "He wants the Shire-Rats. _Now_!" He then notices me and grins wickedly. "Ah-ha. Stopped for some sport, eh? Can't say I blame you. She's a nice pick."

"She's _not_ for sport. Yet. She has a weapon that will aid our war efforts." The leader of our group replies testily.

"Oh, really?" The other leader asks. "Let's hope this weapon can prove useful to the Master; otherwise, I'll have my fun with her, then slit her throat myself." I gulp, paling in horror.

"Orc-maggots do _not_ decide what is to be done with the prisoners." Our captor growls. "If any may lay claim to her once the Master's through with her, I will be first in line. Either way, Saruman will have his prize. _We_ will deliver them!" We continue on our way, and Merry's breathing grows shallow and rattles in his throat. I pale. That can't be good.

"Merry, wake up!" Pippin cries desperately.

"Merry, come on!" I add. No response. As soon as I get out of these ropes, I swear, I am gonna kill that Orc!

"My friend is sick!" Pippin calls to a nearby Orc taking a sip out of a waterskin. "Please, he needs water!"

"Pip, I wouldn't. We don't know- -"

"Sick, is he?" The leader asks cruelly. "Give 'im some medicine, boys!" He roars, to jeering, grating laughter as the Orc Pippin talked to approaches Merry, pinching his mouth open and pouring what looks almost like blood into his mouth! I buck toward him, crying out in protest, as does Pippin, but then I hear a cough and Merry starts to wake up. However, the liquid is starting to choke him as he wakes fully up. "Can't take his draught!" The leader jeers wickedly, to more laughter. I buck forward again angrily.

"Cut it out!"

"Leave him alone!" Pippin adds. The leader stalks forward.

"Why? You two want some?" He asks harshly. I narrow my eyes, but shake my head. Whatever it was, at least Merry was awake. Pippin, thankfully, follows my lead. "No? Than keep your moths shut!" He growls and heads back to the front of the line. We begin moving again.

"Merry?" Pippin asks gently, not wanting to get the Orc's attention again. Merry looks miserable, but manages a tiny smile for his cousin (as I had learned they were to each other).

"Hello, Pip, Winnie."

"Yer hurt!" Pippin squeaks. Merry shakes his head, smirking.

"I'm fine." Merry replies.

"Like Diabhal you are!" I reply hotly, seeing right through Merry's brave face.

"No, really, Win. I'm alright. It was just an act." Somehow, Pippin seems to have bought it and frowns.

"An act?" He parrots, confused. Merry smiles broader.

"See? Fooled you, too." Merry and Pippin share a small smile at this, and it melts whatever protest I'd been thinking of. Merry was trying to protect Pippin's youthful innocence, so close to being lost already. An Orc up ahead starts sniffing around, frowning in distaste at whatever scent had entered his nose.

"What is it? What do you smell?" The leader demands.

"Manflesh." The Orc reports. The leader scoffs.

"We 'ave one not ten feet back, you maggot!" He roars, clapping the soldier upside the head.

"No, not the female!" The soldier protests, rubbing his head. "There's a male, far away yet, but- -"

"They've caught our trail!" The leader interjects. "Let's move!"

"Aragorn." Pippin breaths before he bites and tugs at something on his chest. Whatever it is, it plops to the ground moments later as the Orc troop scrambles around or over the rocks and start running. I am about to ask what he dropped, Pippin seems satisfied, so I decide to trust him. After all, they'd told me Aragorn was an amazing tracker.

Right?

=#=#=#=#=

It was a _long_ several hours before we were thrust down again. I hiss in pain, but don't do anything more. Merry seems okay, still looking absolutely miserable and slightly feverish. I knew I had only a few minutes to talk to him, so I scoot closer.

"Hey." I greet, smiling. He grins.

"Sorry it took so long to come back to." I shake my head.

"No, it's the Orc that needs to apologize, Merry. I'm just glad you woke up." Merry then leans in.

"Your cheek, Rowena!" He squeaks. I shrug.

"Price for standing up to them." I reply. Merry merely sighs and sits back.

"You know, I'd be worried if we had anyone but Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli tracking us." He says. I can't help but smile. "You don't know them like I do, Winnie. They'll be here to save us in a day or, I wager." I chuckle, but can't tell if he's just putting on a brave face again or not. Either way, he seems utterly confident. Pippin leans over, his eyes shining with hope, as well.

"You'll see, Winnie. It'll be okay." I can't help a chuckle.

"Thanks, now lay down. They're leaving us alone right now, but it won't last long."

It didn't. Within five hours, we were kicked awake and tossed small chunks of bread and small makeshift cups of...I don't want to know what. My body betrays me and I start wolfing down the bread before realizing that it had maggots on it. I nearly gag, but somehow manage to swallow it down. I cough and sip at the liquid. I actually do gag at it. It tastes and feels like straight-up vodka! I _hate_ vodka! However, a wierd, heated energy overtook me and I can't help but wonder what that stuff is. I hate it, but must admit that it's effective. I don't feel hungry at all, but can't help but be disgusted at the method used.

"That's all yer gettin' til the morrow, so don't go wastin' any, yeh hear?" I suck the rest of the vile drink down and nod, desperately wishing for clean water to wash this all down. "Good, now get some shuteye!"


	4. Request 1: Council of Elrond

**Me and Not You 1001, THIS IS FOR YOU! THANKS FOR REQUESTING THIS! *BLOWS KISSES* LOVE YOU!**

 **SO I DON'T WASTE A HUGE AMOUNT OF TIME DOING AN ENTIRE NEW OPENING FOR THE WHOLE STORY, LET ME EXPLAIN HOW SHE GOT THERE THIS TIME, KAY?**

 **BASICALLY, SHE WOKE UP ALMOST SITTING IN ONE OF THE STONE TROLLS' LAPS, RIGHT BEFORE ARAGORN AND THE HOBBITS STOPPED THERE ON THEIR WAY TO RIVENDELL. THEY DECIDED TO TAKE HER WITH THEM BECAUSE, AGAIN, THAT LIGHTNING SCREWED HER OVER PRETTY GOOD. AND ARWEN SAID ELROND AND GANDALF WERE LOOKING FORWARD TO MEETING HER.**

 **HOPE YOU LIKE, MaNY! *blows more kisses***

 **GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

 **~THE LUPINE SOJOURNER**

"Sit straight."

"Of course."

"Don't speak unless directly addressed." I nod, barely refraining from rolling my eyes.

"Yessir."

"Also, please remain seated." I found that a little offensive, but agreed. After all, Elrond had the run of the place. He was Lord of Imladris (or Rivendell, to put in 'the Common Tongue'). I had to respect his wishes if I wanted to be anywhere _near_ the counsel. And Gandalf kinda insisted I be present.

=#=#=#=#=

I actually have _no_ idea why I am here. It's _so_ boring! Everyone is still gathering and all the guys do is stare at me. I try my hardest not to scowl at them and snap out a 'I'm not an exhibit! Stop staring!' as time ticks by and more people arrive. One man, wearing an almost regal outfit that was well-traveled by the looks of it, with grey-blue eyes and shaggy strawberry blonde hair, seemed to be paying the most attention to me, more out of curiosity than anything else, I think.

Some of them are really short, with full beards and gruff but friendly enough voices. They eye me curiously and a few even introduce themselves. Gloin and his son Gimli are their names. Gimli is a pleasant fellow who almost seems to be from my native Scotland, so we connect immediately.

I couldn't help it! After waking up, seeing those stone...things (I think someone called them Trolls?) and having strangers run in on me and set up camp like they owned the place, it was refreshing to feel like I was back in Inverness again. Unfortunately, once our conversation was over, it was back to silently waiting for the counsel to begin.

Elrond and the final guests arrived ( _finally_!) arrived, Gandalf (the nutty elderly gentleman who'd greeted me as if we'd known each other all our lives when we met) and the Lord of Rivendell holding a last-minute whispered conversation before the pair sat down. Gandalf sat between me and a raven haired small man everyone called a 'halfling', though I don't know what that is. He had at least nodded politely at me, asking what my name was. I told him and he introduced himself as Frodo Baggins of the Shire. I'd nodded, but before I could reply, Gandalf was seated and the counsel began, and I was mute again. Gimli nodded to me and I nodded back as Elrond began speaking.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old, you have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor." I was _so_ tempted to raise my hand like at school and ask what Mordor was, but respect Elrond's wishes. Besides, it doesn't take too much to deduce that Mordor was the bad guys' home turf. "Middle-Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it." I swallow. Well, _that_ was foreboding. Apparently, everyone shares my sentiments, cus everyone exchanges uneasy looks. "You will unite, or you will fall. Each race is tied to this fate, this one doom." He declares gravely. I raise a brow. What could be _that_ bad? "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo." The absurdity of that statement sinks in a second later. Bring out the _what_?

"Huh?" I ask before I stop myself. Then pale as I remember I was supposed to be mute. Thankfully, no one seems to have even noticed as the Halfling steps toward a small dais in the center of the 'room' (more of a patio-type thing, really) and digs something out of his pocket. Sure enough, it's a simple gold band. "Looks like a wedding ring, really." Elrond clearing his throat alerts me to the fact that I said that out loud. I blush and look at the ground, mumbling an apology under my breath.

"So it does, lass." Gimli replies, winking. I immediately feel better, smiling and giving him a thumbs up. Then, the man with the strawberry blonde hair tilts his head.

"If I may, just how is it that a lady- -wearing trousers no less- -is present and speaking without being addressed?" I narrow my eyes.

"I have as much right as anyone to be here, _sir_. And trousers are far more comfortable than dresses, in my opinion." This sets off a low rumble of whispers. Mostly, something to the tune of 'who _is_ this woman?' 'How dare she address the son of Denethor in that manner!' I set my jaw and stand. "I am Rowena O'Neil of Inverness, Scotland, and I'll grant I'm new to Middle-Earth, but- _-seriously_?! Why can't a woman be present at these things?! Seems to me this meeting might benefit from a fresh perspective, woman or no woman!" I roar, not sure where the words were coming from, but liking them, anyway. Silence greets my words and I suddenly realize I've just broken pretty much every rule Elrond had respectfully and reasonably set out. Mr. Strawberry Hair stares at me as if I had just appeared from thin air. Perhaps, to them, I had. And then I'd opened my stupid mouth.

Gandalf, shockingly, smiles and stands, patting my shoulder.

"Precisely why I insisted you be here, my dear." He then turns to the assembled men. "Now, let us begin discussions." He announces with a clear, authoritative voice. The man from before (the one who demanded to know what I was doing in the council at all) stood, staring at the golden band on the dias.

"In a dream," He announces, speaking as if lost in thought and not quite aware of all he was saying, "I saw the Eastern sky grow dark, but in the West, a pale light lingered." He explains, rubbing his temple like he had a headache. "A voice was crying, 'your doom is near at hand. Isildur's Bane is found.'" I noted with confusion and apprehension that as Boromir spoke he strode, as if irresistibly drawn, toward the dias and the Ring (yeah, it seemed a big enough deal for a capitalization), eyes locked onto the little band like he'd never look away. "Isildur's Bane." He repeats reverently, then slowly reaches out to grab the Ring. Elrond's entire being darkens and he stands before I even knew he'd moved.

" _Boromir_!" He snaps. Then, Gandalf stands and starts speaking in some foreign tongue that seems to make the world more frightening and foreboding, my heart pounding and blood roaring in my ears like my worst nightmare had come true. Everyone else seems to have a similar reaction to the language, but the Elves seem most affected. I clap my hands over my ears and shrink back into my seat.

"For Dia's sake, dude, just sit down so Gandalf will shut up!" I roar, and Boromir, looking the most uncertain and terrified I've seem him, does so. I slowly take my hands away from my ears, breathing heavily in the wake of those awful words. Everyone is breathing heavily, tense in the aftermath of such a fright.

"Never before has any voice uttered words in that tongue here in Imladris." Elrond snaps testily at Gandalf.

"For good reason!" I mutter under my breath.

"I do not ask your pardon, Lord Elrond," Gandalf says, but I can tell he slightly regrets the effect it had on his friend. "For the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West!" He snaps, glaring at the man who'd nearly taken the Ring (Boromir, I think Elrond called him?) over his shoulder. "The Ring is altogether evil!" He warns severely. I stare at it with new eyes. That thing looked so...simple, so...oddly alluring. If i listened carefully enough, I could hear whispers in a strange, yet almost beautiful tongue, speaking promises of power and my heart's desire, if only I would slip it on. And I found I nearly wanted to. It was a creepy feeling to have for a ring. I shake myself and the whispers fade as I look around, and notice Boromir was shaking his head.

"It is a gift, a gift to the foes of Mordor." He says slowly, standing again.

"Boromir, didn't you hear Gandalf?" I retort, standing myself. "That thing is _evil_!"

"Nay, milady. Hear me out, at least." Boromir counters. "Why not use the Ring?"

"Because it's _evil_!" I snap. Boromir glowers at me testily.

"Long has my father, Steward of Gondor, kept the Forces of Mordor at bay, Rowena! By the blood of my people are these lands safe!" I frown.

"That doesn't give you the right to use the Ring!"

"I am merely saying this council should give Gondor the Weapon of the Enemy! Let us use it against him!"

"Are you insane?! Have you not been listening this entire time?!" I snap.

"The lady Rowena is correct, Boromir. You can't wield it. No one can!" Aragorn adds. "It owes allegiance to Sauron alone; it has no other master!" Boromir looks down his nose at my friend.

"And what would a Ranger know of this matter?"

"Hey!" I snap, but then one of the Elves, an incredibly handsome young-looking man with almost white blonde hair braided back and piercing but wise blue eyes stands, angry at the insult to Aragorn.

"That is no mere Ranger! That is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and you owe him your allegiance." He snaps. Arathorn looks almost embarrassed, motioning for us to sit back down.

But it was too late; the name had been spoken, whatever it really means. It evidently means something, cus everyone's murmuring and looking in shock at Aragorn, who seems to want to sink down into the ground and vanish.

"Aragorn?" Boromir parrots curiously, eying Aragorn with an unreadable expression. " _This_ is Isildur's Heir?" He asks, almost in a mocking tone. The Elf who'd stood up for my friend narrows his eyes more.

"And heir to the Throne of Gondor." I snap my head to Aragorn. Whoa...he was a Crown Prince? Dang.

"Please, sit down, my friends." Aragorn mumbles, looking sheepish and embarrassed.

"Gondor has no king." Boromir growls, obviously feeling threatened by Aragorn's superior rank. "Gondor _needs_ no king."

"That was a touch awkward." I mumble to myself as I sit back down, watching as Aragorn and Boromir eye each other, Boromir angry but Aragorn merely resigned now that the truth of his identity had been revealed.

"Aragorn is right." Gandalf points out after a few awkward seconds of silence. "We cannot use it." Elrond then stands to add his two cents.

"We have only one choice; the Ring must be destroyed." Everyone seems uncomfortable with this idea, but none more than Boromir. I decide I should keep my eyes open where he's concerned.

"What are we waiting for?!" Gimli demands, grabbing his ax. Before anyone could protest, he slams the ax onto the golden band, shattering the ax and sending debris ricocheting everywhere and the Dwarf (yes, _Dwarf_ ) reeling backwards toward his kin. One piece lands a nice gash right over my left eye and I clamp a hand to it.

" _Gimli_!" I bark. "That thing isn't an ordinary Ring! Ow, geez!" I whimper, keeping pressure on the wound.

"Rowena!" Gimi cries, once he's regained his footing. "Sorry, lass. I don't know what I was thinking." I hiss in pain but then manage a smile.

"It's alright. You just did what you thought would work."

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli son of Gloin, by any craft we here possess." Elrond informs the baffled Dwarf with a hint of amusement, the tiniest of smirks on his face. "The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came." The tension rose as Elrond took a pause to lay more emphasis on his coming words. "One of you must do this." Awkward silence reigned. I knew- -or rather, guessed- -that a woman would not be allowed to carry out the task, even if I volunteered, so I kept my mouth shut.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor." Boromir murmurs despondently. "It's Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. The Great Eye is ever watchful. 'Tis a barren wasteland, riddled with fire, ash and dust. The very air you breath is a poisonous fume." Boromir sighs hopelessly. "Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly."

"Well, doesn't sound like we got a choice, Boromir." I reply tentatively. Then, the Elf from before stands again, rage contorting his handsome features.

"Have you heard _nothing_ Lord Elrond has said?!" He snaps.

"I'm sure he has, sir." I reply, standing as well. "He seems to know more about Mordor than anyone else, however. Perhaps he has a valid point."

"The Ring _must_ be destroyed!" Legolas protests. I roll my eyes.

"I'm not debating that. _No_ one is. I'm just saying Boromir may have a point." I retort, getting tired of talking on circles and never reaching a decision.

"And I suppose you two think you're the ones to do it?!" Gimli roars indignantly.

"No, that's- -"

"And if we fail, what then?" Boromir interjects, cutting through my reply, standing in anger. "What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?!"

"We're just arguing in circles!" I snap suddenly. " No one is debating that the Ring is evil, Sauron needs to be kept from the Ring, and that we must destroy this thing. All we need further discuss is who is going to go to Mordor." I point out, coming to stand between the man and Elf, exchanging an exasperated look with Aragorn.

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!" Gimli roars, standing testily.

"Gimli, I wasn't saying- -" Too late. Every Elf in the room (except Elrond) stood and protested Gimli's statement heatedly. All at once, to boot.

"Never trust an Elf!" Gimli adds, glaring at the hot-headed blonde Elf, who was barely holding his fellow Elves back.

"Hey! That was uncalled for!" I snap back, but again my words had no effect and the bickering continued.

"Do you all not understand?!" Gandalf shouts, standing to join in the fray as I give up and sit. "As we bicker amongst ourselves, Sauron's power grows! None can escape it! You'll all be destroyed!"

Then, as the bickering reached a climax, a sudden realization came to me. That Ring was aggravating everyone. It was making them argue needlessly, wasting precious time. Now, I could hear the whispers as loudly as if someone were speaking directly into my ear. Gone was the sweetness and temptation it once had. Now, it was demanding I stand and fight their viewpoints with my own, to make everyone see that I alone was right, that I alone knew the truth.

The whispers grow so much in volume, I can't hear any of the arguing and suddenly, my head starts pounding and I grimace, rubbing my temples.

"You, too?" Frodo asks, a look of sheer pain on his face. I nod, then decide to do something, rather than nothing.

" _Shut up_!" I scream. Miraculously, silence is achieved. I step into the middle of the group of men. "Don't you all get it?!" I snap. "This is _precisely_ what Sauron wants! The only people able to resist him, torn apart and bickering like spoiled children! Grow up, get this done, or Sauron _will_ take over!" Then, something truly shocking happens; Frodo stands, hands clenching in determination.

"I will take it! I will take the Ring to Mordor!" He cries. Gandalf seems to have foreseen this and nods.

"The Lady Rowena and I" he says, sweeping a hand to me, "will help you bear this burden, as long as it is yours to bear." He says. I frown.

"Um...and if _I_ don't want to go?" I ask. Gandalf seems shocked and I cross my arms, but privately crumble in excitement over actually being a part of the book series my father introduced me to and loved to talk with me about at length. "I'm not saying I don't want to go, but...if I really don't want to?" Gandalf smiles a knowing smile instantly know means he's on to me, stepping closer.

"My dear Rowena, you are, of course, free to remain here in Imladris as long as you like, or explore all Middle-Earth has to offer on your own." That does it. I groan, pinch the bridge of my nose even as I step toward the Hobbit and wizard.

"Fine. You win. Let's destroy a wedding ring." I mumble, crossing my arms and standing with the pair, glaring at the smirking older man.

This would _not_ end well, would it?


	5. Alternate Opening 1 prt 4

**THIS CHAPTER DEALS WITH AN ORC TRYING TO 'HANDLE' ROWENA. I'M SORRY, BUT THIS IS WHAT AN ORC WOULD ABSOLUTELY DO. IT'S NOT GRAPHIC AND HAPPENS RIGHT AS EOMER AND HIS MEN ARRIVE, SO IT'S SHUT DOWN QUICK, KAY? LOVE YOU ALL! NOW, TO REVIEWS!**

 **Me and Not You 1001: Yeah, Boromir made a** ** _big_** **mistake with that comment, that's for sure! XD Glad you liked it, love! The bit about Rowena 'not' wanting to to Mordor was my reaction. I'd be like, "I** ** _can_** **refuse, right? I'm not going to, but I** ** _do_** **have that option, correct?" ;P Gotta love an independent, modern woman's reactions to the more medieval society Tolkien created! XD**

 **GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

 **~THE LUPINE SOJOURNER**

This cycle goes on about two more days. It's now noon of the fifth day since our capture (I think; the days are beginning to blur together). It's hard not to think that maybe, this time, Aragorn won't be able to find us. Or perhaps they all decided to go with Frodo to Mordor.

But, regardless, I can't let Pippin think we won't be rescued eventually, so I keep up a brave face and assure him every night that Aragorn and Legolas and Gimli were still hot on our tail. And every night, I send up a prayer to whatever gods exist here that we _somehow_ get out of this.

And then evening comes and there's something angering most of the smaller Orcs. it takes another few minutes to figure out what. The smaller ones want to stop for the night but the bigger ones aren't as keen on the idea.

"Merry, Winnie." Pippin whimpers, wriggling over to us.

"I think we made a mistake leaving the Shire, Pippin." Merry replies, and I smile.

"Well, if you hadn't left the Shire, then you'd have never met me, would you? Or Aragorn, Legolas, or Gimli." Pippin pretends to consider this for a moment.

"...I think I agree with Merry on this one." He says cheekily. I scowl playfully at him as we all share a rare smile.

"Then I won't tell you about the knife in my boot." Aragorn had given me one of his spares, even coaching me on grips and simple swings in the canoe and when we stopped to eat and sleep. The pair instantly realize what I'm talking about; the Orcs hadn't bothered to take anything from us, in too much of a hurry to even search us properly. They'd even stopped taking the time to re-tie my leg bindings, as it just wasted time. Same with the boys.

Before they can reply, there's a loud creaking that seems to come from the trees, as if they were protesting the Orcs cutting them down. I frown.

"...Please tell me you heard that, too." I whisper, looking back toward the forest. Merry sits up, looking confused and slightly terrified.

"What's making that noise?" Pippin asks timidly. Merry swallows.

"It's the trees." He breaths. I blink.

"Merry, trees don't move unless there's wind."

"If they're Ents, they can." Merry replies.

"What?" Pippin replies, sounding almost incredulous. "That's just a spooky story to keep us out of the woods when we were little, Merry." He adds. Merry shakes his head.

"No, it isn't. Remember the Old Forest, on the Borders of Buckland? Folk used to say there was something in the water that made the trees grow tall and come alive." I frown.

"'Alive'?" Pippin repeats. Merry nods.

"And they could whisper, talk to each other...even move." He continues. I huff.

"So, there are anthropomorphic trees in Middle-Earth? _Great_." Then, commotion from the ranks of Orcs draws our attention.

"I'm starving!" An Orc growls, holding up the nasty bread we'd all been forced to eat the past few days. "We ain't had nothing but maggoty bread for three stinkin' days!" He adds, throwing the bread on the ground in disgust.

"Yeah!" Another, smaller one, whines in agreement, his voice unpleasantly high and reedy. "Why can't we have some meat?" He presses, then notices the the three bound prisoners not ten feet away. I pale. Oh, _no_. "What about them? They're fresh." He asks, licking his lips. "We might even get to have some fun with the female, while we're at it."

"They are _not_ for eating, or _fun_!" The large leader snaps, leading a few of his more loyal cronies to stand in front of us. I never thought I would, but I was almost tempted to thank that Orc. _Almost_. The leader's words do not allay the others' desire eat to the boys and rape me, however. The leader sees this and grabs my wrist bindings, dragging me backwards and further away from the mutineers as others grab Merry and Pippin. As soon as I can, I shift myself to stand on front of the boys.

"What about their legs?" Another mutineer, the one who'd called our troop late earlier, pipes up. "They don't need those." He then licks his lips. "They look tasty, 'specially that female!" He adds, daring to run forward. The leader shoves him back.

"Get back, scum! The prisoners go to Saruman, alive and unspoiled."

"Having a bit of fun won't spoil 'er." The Orc protests. "And why alive?" He asks, jeering at us. "Are they all good sport? Or is it just the female?" The surrounding Orcs seem to find that amusing, leering at me and cackling horribly.

"They have things the Master will want. Weapons, one Elvish, one...well, you saw the female use it, didn't you?" The leader of the mutineers reluctantly nods. "The Master wants new weapons for the War. We're providing them." Pippin's eyes are wide in terror as he leans over to Merry.

"They think we have the Ring." He whimpers. Merry shushes him instantly.

"The instant they find out we don't, we're dead and Rowena, too, probably." I want to ask what the 'ring' is and why it's so important, but I know better. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, even as the high, reedy voiced Orc comes up from behind, trailing his filthy, grubby hands all over me, even daring to unbutton a few buttons on my shirt. I try to wriggle away, but am grabbed again in seconds, hand now completely over my mouth. I thrust it away immediately.

"Stop!" I growl. The thing merely smiles.

"Just 'ow I like 'em; feisty, with just a little backbone." He replies, leering evilly at me. "When I'm done with you, I'll take just a bit off- -" He never got to finish the sentence as the leader of the platoon has finally taken enough and swings the sword, the Orc's head rolling between my feet and bumping against Merry and Pippin's ankles. I'd barely ducked in time to avoid being gashed. There's tense silence for several slow seconds, and I pull the boys to me. I knew something horrible was about to- -

"Looks like meat's back on the menu, boys!" The leader roars. Just as the Orcs rush forward, I pull the boys down and reach for my knife. I quickly cut my bonds and get to work on Merry's when I am kicked aside, an Orc's boots thudding enough to make me see stars and the next thing I know, I'm straddled by the leader of the mutineers. He pins me down securely, grabbing my mouth painfully as his other hand unbuttons a few more buttons. I wriggle around, grunting and trying to get my mouth free.

"Go on. Call for help." He growls. My heart thuds painfully in my chest as he leers at me and draws closer. "You're mine. No one's gonna save you now." He jeers, then, miraculously, a spear sprouts out of his chest. He screeches in agony and rolls over, even as I slice his throat with my knife and finish cutting the boys' bonds as the sound of a herd of horses approach, coupled with riders' whistles.

"I'm sorry." Merry stammers. "I couldn't do anything! He was going to- -"

"I know, but he didn't. Now, let's go before we're attacked, too!" I interject, doing up a few buttons and grabbing their hands. "Follow me and stay low." I order, bending and running forward. We'd not made it twenty feet when an arrow skims my shin painfully. I gasp in agony and drop to the ground, clutching at the wound. "Go! I'm right behind you! Don't stop running! I'll catch up!" I cry, even as I try to tear a strip of my shirt to make a sort-of bandage. The boys, bless them, stayed where they were. " _Go_!" I snap and they finally get moving as I finally get the strip. Tying it off, I stand and don't even have time to test my weight before I am grabbed by the back of the shirt and hauled roughly onto a horse that carries me away from the forest, where we'd been trying to seek shelter. Merry and Pippin were lost in the sea of riders and Orcs. "Hey! Put me down!" I then scream, struggling to break free. In the end, the rider was so startled, he accidentally lets me go and I fall off the saddle, my head cracking harshly against a rock and I know nothing more.

=#=#=#=#=

When I came to, I was lying on a bedroll in front of a fire, alone for the moment. I sit up and see a few tents only big enough for two people, tops. That, and my forehead (where I hit the rock) had been expertly treated and bound, as well as my leg.

Seconds later, I note I've been tied at the wrists again, but this time there was at least bandages on my sores, so they could heal. Regardless, I groan and stand to find someone I can get answers from and (hopefully) find Merry and Pippin.

"Hey!" I bark at the first man to come across me. He was fairly handsome, with jade green eyes and straw-colored hair down to his shoulders, tied back from his face in a half-up style I used myself a lot. He had broad shoulders accented by the armor he wore. "Why am I tied up?!" I demand. I'm too tired to be polite, and the headache I have is _not_ helping.

"I gave the order myself." I bristle and stalk a few steps closer.

" _Why_?!" I snap, glaring at him. He scowled back. I now notice just how _big_ he looks.

"You are an unknown woman. That, and it is King Theoden's orders that all sojourners in Rohan be detained until he can question them. I am truly sorry, milady. If I could, I would remove those ropes, but I cannot." I huff and roll my eyes.

"Did you at least find two Hobbits? They weren't far ahead of me. We were trying to take shelter in the woods, and we were separated when some idiot grabbed me and hauled me onto his saddle." Eomer frowns.

"Nay, I saw none with you when I thought I had grabbed an Orc for questioning." He's suddenly smirking, the cheeky little bugger. "I was, I admit, rather startled to find that you were a prisoner of theirs, not an Orc yourself. Then, you slipped right off Firefoot, my horse, and I brought you back here." I groan and sink to the ground, deciding to at least _try_ to be polite to this guy.

"Yeah, my friends and I have been their prisoners for the past...five days, I think. I dunno; the days start blending together soon enough. Now, Orc rope is _very_ coarse, and my sores are starting to really hurt, despite the kind treatment I am grateful for. Can we just take the rope off until we get where we're going?"

"I'm afraid not, milady." The man replies. I begin to groan, then stop short.

"Look, it's been a stressful day, sir. I'm sorry for the poor first impression. I'm Rowena O'Neil, but please call me 'Winnie'." I introduce myself and he chuckles, shaking my bound proffered hand. We shake hands and I try not to grimace at the catching and rubbing on the sores on my wrists.

"Eomer, son of Eomund, is my name." I nod, wondering why his father was introduced, too.

"Pleasure. Um...can I get some food? All the orcs gave us was maggoty bread and some foul draught stuff." Eomer nods.

"Of course. Please, right this way." He leads me to a small tent and enters, sitting down on the opposite end and my mouth waters at the bread, cheese, and meat available. I barely manage a 'thank you' before chowing down hungrily. Eomer smiles. "You have a voracious appetite, milady." I stop mid-chew and force myself to eat a little slower.

"Sorry. I'm just _so_ hungry. Trust me when I say maggoty bread is _not_ satisfying."

"I meant no offense, Rowena. I shall take your word about the bread in future." He says with a wink and a smile. I flush a little (smiles were unfairly cute on him. Don't judge!), but then it vanishes when Eomer suddenly sags, as if wearying of forcing himself to be cheerful.

"In truth, milady, we seek my cousin, Theodred. He is missing with his Eored- -all skilled riders and warriors. They were due to return nigh on seven morns ago." _Just before we were captured._ I note absently. I awkwardly touch Eomer's hand.

"I'm sure you'll find him." I mumble shyly, retracting my hand suddenly.

"Aye, I hope so. This was the area he was patrolling, last any heard. So it is here we hope to find him, but in the meantime, perhaps you'd like some rest?" I nod wearily.

"Yes, that would be great." I then look at my hands. Sleeping with bound hands was difficult, but do-able. I am then handed a bedroll (a luxury I had sorely missed) and am a little shocked when Eomer simply lies down, leaving not much room in the tent. I then shrug and lay down myself, exhaustion overruling me and I fall to darkness within minutes.

=#=#=#=#=

The next morning, I wake to find myself in the bedroll without a tent. Eomer was approaching as I sat up, rubbing my eyes and stretching best I could.

"I was just about to wake you, milady. We are about to mount up to continue our search." I nod.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm…" I yawn and pop my neck and my back. "I'm coming." I then stand and follow Eomer. He hands me something he calls waybread with a few boiled eggs and I have to scarf them down. Eomer then helps me mount Firefoot and then he smoothly slides in behind me. I flush and try to scoot forward, but there is no room left. So I am left to be smushed against a guy I hardly know in a saddle. Life sucks sometimes. Eomer has to hold the reigns, so the situation becomes even more awkward as he has to wrap his arms around me.

"I'm sorry, Rowena." He mumbles, feeling as awkward as I do. I swallow my nerves and shrug.

"It's...It's alright."

A few hours later, we are nearing a few large boulders. Then, just as we passed them, I hear a voice I thought I'd never hear again.

"Riders of Rohan! What news from the Mark?" My eyes snap wide. It was Aragorn!


	6. Alternate Opening 1 prt 5

"Turn around, Eomer! Turn around!" I all but screech, trying to see my friend even as Eomer raises his spear and wheels Firefoot around, his men trusting him and turning around, as well. "Those are my friends!" I explain happily. The men encircle the guys and I find only Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn standing there. I beam at them, scrambling down. "Guys! I'm _so_ happy to see you!" I cry as they hug me. They then notice that I am bound.

"What is this?!" Gimli demands sharply, pointing at the ropes and reaching for his ax. "Why have you bound this maiden?! And why is she injured?!" He growls. "If you've laid hands on her, I swear by Durin- -" Eomer dismounts, and held his hands up placatingly.

"I apologize, but it is the law of this land in these dark times. I have no choice but to obey."

"That is no excuse! She has been- -"

"Gimli, _enough_!" I interject. "They rescued me from the Orcs! I owe them my life!" I snap. "So put that ax down and relax. If you must know, I fell off Eomer's" I pointed to my new friend to illustrate who I meant, "horse, and hit my head on a rock. _That's_ how I got injured! They took me with them, dressed my wrists, too, after the Orc rope gave me blisters and sores, before they had to re-tie them. They've been taking really good care of me. I'm fine! It's alright!" Gimli looks shell-shocked.  
"Lass, yer defending these ruffians?!" I nod sternly as I square off against him without fear.

"Yeah, I am! They've been really kind to me. Eomer told me he really didn't want to have to tie me up, but he has no choice. I'm fine with it, really." Legolas steps forward.

"In any event, we owe you and your men a debt of gratitude, Eomer, but I must ask; did you not find two halflings with Rowena?" Eomer shakes his head.

"Alas, I did not. I must admit, I was more concerned with putting an end to those filthy Orcs." I then decide to tell my friends where Merry and Pippin went.

"We were separated when Eomer and his men attacked. We were heading into the forest just over there." I explain, pointing with my hands to the forest. Every man pales.

"What madness drove you to go in there?" Gimli whimpers. I flush with guilt.

"It seemed a logical place to take shelter in all the chaos of the skirmish. I'm sorry. I told them to go on and not look back cus my shin was nicked in the chaos." I explain in a rush. Gimli softens and pats my forearm as he sees the look in my eyes.

"You did what yeh could, lass. No more could be asked of you." He replies. I sniffle.

"If they're dead because of me…" I bite my lip as sudden tears threaten to spill out.

"I have heard strange tales of that forest, yes, but...we cannot give up now." Aragorn says gently. "Not while hope yet remains."

"Hope does not remain." Eomer mutters bitterly, remounting Firefoot. "I will, however, return the lady to your care and provide you one more gift; Hasold! Arod! Gremund!" Three horses are lead forward, riderless and ready to gallop. "May these horses bear you to better fortune than their former masters. I ask only this; that you return the horses to Edoras when your quest here is complete. In lending them to you, I stake my good name, and perhaps my freedom and rank, on your honor and good faith." I smile up at him.

"Thank you for mistaking me for an Orc." I whisper, patting his leg in farewell. "Hope you find your cousin." Eomer nods.

"I thank you, mIlady, and look forward to your arrival at Edoras, across the Entwash." Aragorn nods.

"I know the Golden Hall and it's location. I will return the horses as swift as may be." He assures Eomer. "Fare you well." Eomer sighs, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Look for your friends, Rowena, but do not hold to too much hope. It has forsaken these lands." WIth that, he orders his men to ride north and they instantly obey. First thing Aragorn does is hug me as normally as possible, then he takes out a knife and slashes my bonds.

"I really a- -" I am cut off by a bear hug from Gimli.

"Now I can hug yeh proper, lassie! Oh, 'tis so good for these eyes to see you again." I grin and hug him back.

"I'm really glad to see you all, too, believe me, but we _gotta_ go get Merry and Pippin." Gimli guffaws.

"You are a strong, brave woman, Rowena. Even so, surely you'll be wanting a meal and a rest first?" I shake my head and decide on Gremund, managing to swing fairly smoothly into the saddle, wincing as the bandages on my shin catch on my cut. This wasn't so hard, this horseback riding. So far at least.

"There's no time! You don't understand! That forest...I swear the trees spo- -"

"We have heard the tales of Fangorn Forest, I assure you, Rowena." Legolas says, mounting Arod and Gimli reluctantly lets the Elf help him into the saddle. Aragorn mounts Harold and we're set.

"Then we gotta go!" I bark, kicking the horse's sides. Obediently, Gremund starts forward. I swallow. So far so good, but...I'd only ridden once, for my Sweet Sixteen party, and I barely remember it at all now. Just that- -oh. I had to be confident, dominant, and sure of my directions...I think. I wheel Gremund toward the forest. Thankfully, no one argues and we ride off at a swift gallop. I take a lot of cues from the others as to how to make Gremund run faster, and he was a good horse, well trained, so he obeyed without a hitch. It's about an hour's hard ride to the forest, but by the time we got there, the sun was setting and we all agreed it would do the Hobbits no good to go blundering into a forest with night so close, get lost, then be left to the mercy of...the trees. I know they moved and groaned without wind. I _know_ it!

So, reluctantly, we settle down for the night.

"Lass?" Gimli asks. I nod.

"Yeah, Gimli?" He sighs.

"Yeh don't have to answer, but...what happened when you were with the Orcs?" I swallow, the memory of being groped and straddled by an Orc unpleasant, to put it mildly.

"Not a whole lot while they were running, thank God. We rode piggyback, with ropes securing us to the carriers. Then, at night, they'd throw us down and prepare camp, tossing us maggoty bread and...some kind of draught that tasted like an alcohol in my world called vodka, that burns down your throat and makes you feel unnaturally warm, but it also gave us a kind of frenzied energy, as well. The Orcs, when they would look at me, taunt each other about 'sport' and 'fun' with me, but thankfully the leader had orders to bring us to someone named Saruman 'alive and unspoiled'. It didn't deter them from wanting to eat the boys' legs and rape me, though. So the leader made an example of the main mutineer, but while all this was going on, an Orc came from behind…"

"He didn't!" Gimli barks, everyone's eyes and being darkening in rage at the unspoken action the Orc was about to take. I flinch, both at the memory and the sudden rage in my friends.

" _Nearly_ , but no. He had me pinned and was...but then a spear crashed into his back and the rider's attack began. In the confusion, the Hobbits and I got free of our bonds with the knife Aragorn gave me and made for the woods, when a Rohirric arrow grazed my shin. It hurt like crap and I stopped to tear a bandage from my shirt. As soon as I was done, I was swept up by a man I'd later know as Eomer and mistaken for an orc that needed to be questioned. I demanded to be put down and he was so startled, my wriggling suddenly made me fall off the horse. I hit my head and Eomer's been taking care of me ever since." I explain. The trio of men are silent for a long moment.

"You are truly a strong, capable woman, mellon." Legolas breathes. "Any other woman would have died of fright." I shrug.

"Benefit of being Scottish, I suppose; we're renowned for our resilience." Gimli chuckles and claps my shoulder heartily. Unfortunately, it's right on my bruise and I hiss.

"Ow! That's right where I landed when the Orcs would throw us down." Gimli pales slightly.

"Apologies, lass!" He all but squeaks. I shrug.

"It's fine. They're starting to heal." I reply, smiling. "Now, I think I'm about to fall asleep talking. I'm going to bed." The others nod and Legolas takes first watch.

As I settle down, for the first time in five days (not including my time with Eomer), I felt safe, secure and almost literally glowing with the warmth of both the fire and the knowledge that I had found a group I could call my family in this crazy, upside down world.

 **SHORTER THAN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS, I KNOW, BUT I HAVE BEEN TURNING THIS INTO AN ENTIRE RE-TELLING OF MY STORY AND I DON'T WANT TO DO THAT. APOLOGIES FOR NOT WRITING OTHER THINGS, LIKE AUS AND THE PROMISED ALTERNATE WORLDS THEY COULD MEET IN. HERE'S AN IDEA I HAVE IN MIND FOR NEXT CHAPTER. LIKE ME KNOW IF YOU CAN GUESS THIS FANDOM!**

Being a bartender means you learn a lot about the utter depravity men are capable of. Women, too. Humans in general- -though aliens fall into this category, too- -can be _ruthless_ to each other, petty and embittered to the point of brutal vengeance on their wrong-doers.

On the flipside of that, I oftentimes find myself feeling for the victims, left to pick themselves up after all was said and done. Alcohol seemed a popular coping mechanism among our kind (and several species of aliens, too). Then _he_ walked in.

He sat at the bar and ordered two whiskeys on the rocks, puffy eyes denoting lack of sleep. "Damn woman…" He groans, shooting an entire whiskey straight back. He was quite handsome with his square jaw, slightly grown out black hair, and the lukewarm dark brown eyes of someone who's been put through all seven Rings of Hell in mere hours. "Taking the entire planet with her!" He says, shooting the other drink back.

"Slow down; you'll get alcohol poisoning." I tease, unable to help it. He merely grunts and orders two more drinks.


	7. Two Whiskeys on the Rocks (Star Trek AU)

**APOLOGIES IN ADVANCE FOR THE LANGUAGE, BUT IT'S BONES, SO...HAS TO BE DONE.**

 **THAT BEING SAID, HOPE YOU ENJOY! ONTO THE REVIEWS!**

 **Me and Not You 1001: Rowena just clings to the that she _wasn't_ raped to remain sane and rational. And she's focusing on getting back to Merry and Pippin, as well. She's pretty easy to accept that she's in Middle-Earth by this point, since she spent a few easy days adjusting before the Orcs came. Anyway, let me know what you think about the extra 'trailer' at the end, okay?**

 **Indigo575: I completely spaced replying last time to your review! So sorry! Anyway, did you like her and their reaction? Did I do the characters justice?**

 **GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

 **~THE LUPINE SOJOURNER**

Being a bartender means you learn a lot about the utter depravity men are capable of. Women, too. Humans in general- -though aliens are not without guilt, as well- -can be ruthless to each other, petty and embittered to the point of brutal vengeance on their wrong-doers.

That being said, I oftentimes find myself feeling for the victims, left to pick themselves up after all was said and done. Alcohol seemed a popular coping mechanism among our kind (and several species of aliens, too). Then he walked in. He sat at the bar and ordered two whiskeys on the rocks, puffy eyes mainly denoting lack of sleep. "Damn woman…" He groans, shooting an entire whiskey straight back. He was quite handsome with his square jaw, slightly grown out black hair, and the lukewarm dark brown eyes of someone who's been dragged through the Seven Rings of Hell in mere hours. "Taking the entire planet with her!" He says, shooting the other drink back.

"Slow down; you'll get alcohol poisoning." I tease, unable to help it. He merely scoffs and orders two more drinks. Sighing, I refill his glasses and hand them back. "So, mind telling a humble bartenders your troubles?" I ask, leaning my elbows on the counter. The man sighs.

"First, I think I should introduce myself." That wasn't uncommon, but something about this guy made my heart skip a beat. He was so...genuinely polite. A good person who'd just been dragged through the mud. "Leonard McCoy, soon to be Medical Officer McCoy." I nod.

"Rowena Scott, about to be Medical Officer Scott." I tell him. He raises a brow.

"You're enlisting, too?" He asks. I nod.

"Yeah, soon as I study some more and get a little more in my bank. Dad wasn't thrilled when I told him, but it's what I want, so Mom talked him off the ledge, so to speak." Leonard nods, sucking back a third drink. He then smirks and slides the other to me. I roll my eyes. "Good heavens, you're bold." I tease, nonplussed (or so I told myself). It wasn't the first time I was chatted up or hit on by a patron at the bar, after all. I could handle it. I slide the drink back. "I'm still working, Leo." Leonard frowns.

"'Leo'?" He parrots, looking like he's sucking a lemon. I chuckle.

"Yeah. Shorter than 'Leonard'." I say with a shrug. I then turn and serve another patron and by the time I get back to Leonard's chair, I am left with four empty whiskey glasses and a money note with a handwritten one tucked under it.

Been fun meeting you, Rowena. Way things are going, might be seeing more of you. So, here's my vidscreen information.

Listed below that was the series of numbers and letters that would sync our two vidscreens. Again, this wasn't the first time this had happened, but this was the first time I pocketed the note. After Monty graduated, I'd been getting more and more lonely. Maybe I just wanted someone to talk to.

=#=#=#=#=

Next time I saw him, I was waiting for patrons. It was a slow day, and I was incredibly bored at only two hours into my shift. He was suddenly seated at the bar.

"Two whiskeys, on the rocks." He croaks, and I take a second to drink in just how bad he'd gotten in the two days since I'd last seen him. He hadn't shaved or trimmed his hair, he hadn't showered, and he was wearing the same clothes. As I am pouring the drinks, his fists slam on the counter, startling me a little, and I almost spill the whiskey. I then realize that he'd already been drinking tonight. I frown. How was this guy still functioning?! "The nerve of that woman! Actin' like it's all my fault!" He slurs, downing a drink as easily as he had last time, but I knew those puffy eyes were from both too much drinking and crying (but mainly drinking), but lack of sleep certainly didn't help matters.

"Leo, seriously, slow down!" I snap.

"Seriously, stay out of it." He retorts, gripping the other drink protectively. I sigh.

"I think you should tell me what's happening with you before I have to take you to a hospital." He sighs.

"Prob'ly. Look, it's a story you prob'ly hear a lot here." He says, sipping the second whiskey, twirling the rest thoughtfully. "I met a girl, thought it was love, married too soon, whole nine yards." He groans, scrubbing his hands over his face, sighing heavily. "Want to hear the rest?" He asks, eyes down. I tilt my head. Here was something new; I'd taken rants, screams, sobs, but not polite requests if I actually wanted to hear his tale. For that reason alone, I agreed.

"Eh, it's a slow night, anyway." I quip, leaning my elbows on the bar with a shrug. He chuckles without humor.

"Well, and this is the difference 'tween me an' the rest, most likely; I only joined the medical field because of my daughter." He gulps down another hefty portion of his drink, as if to steel himself for what he's about to say. "My little girl, Johana...she's sick. Real sick. And my woman blames me fer the whole thing, like I gave Johana the- -" He chokes off, beginning to sob. I feel my heart shatter and I decide to ignore whatever protocol told me to do about people like this, because in this moment, Leo needed a friend, not just a bartender. So I come out from behind the bar and give the man a hug. "I just...there's nothing to be done, and Ellen just...she just ignores that and guilt-trips me!" He cries. I rub his back comfortingly.

"That's just her messed up way of trying to process all this, I'm afraid. I am so sorry she's making you feel this way." He clutches me tighter to him like I was a lifeline and he was a drowning man. I blush, but don't move to end the contact.

"And now we're gettin' divorced with a dying daughter to top it all off." He then straightens up, gently pushing me back. "So, I should be getting back. It's my night to take care of Johana." I exchange looks with an employee just arriving who seems to pick up on what was happening. No way was I taking this guy anywhere but home to sleep the alcohol off.

"...Fine, just go." He says, waving me on. I grin.

"Thanks!" Leo looks at me strangely.

"What're you doing?" He asks, speech slurring slightly. I roll my eyes, taking his arm over my shoulder.

"What do you think, genius? You're too drunk to even call a ride, much less get there in one piece. I'm taking you home."

"Winnie, yeh don't have t- -"

"Yes, I do. Now shut up!"

=#=#=#=#=

Thus began a very unlikely friendship involving me giving him half-off ice cream- -but don't tell the manager!- -instead of whiskey whenever he wanted to go to a bar, as I found serving ice cream to be a far better job for me than serving drinks (plus it pays better). And Leo had somehow known I'd switched jobs, showing up at my new work rather than a bar.

Doesn't mean he didn't have a flask on him at virtually all times, but it was at least a start. I quickly learned that Leonard liked Butter Rum with pecan pieces...and a little extra rum. I'd pretend not to notice and we became inseparable. We talked about a lot of things, but mainly it was just to let Leo rant about his ex-wife.

"I mean it! She really took the whole damn planet!" He was saying currently. "She's stripped me of everything! All I got left is my bones." He grumbles, stirring his ice cream absently. I crack a smile. Leonard notices. And groans.

"Seriously?" He asks. I shrug.

"You are a doctor." Leonard sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It fits."

"I'd really rather you not call me 'Bones', darlin'." I grin and shrug.

"I was just teasing." I then laugh at myself and McCoy joins in.

=#=#=#=#=

"You sure about this?" He asks, puffy eyes searching my own. I nod shakily. Why did he invite me again? This was extremely personal for him. Why am I here?

"Y-yeah, I'm sure." I had to do this. For him and to honor my promise to be here for him.

"Not too late to- -" We're interrupted by a snide, snivelling voice.

"Oh, Lennie, how decent of you to show up." I turn and see a snobby, well-dressed woman with completely exaggerated expressions and features. I instantly hate her, even before I deduced that she was the satanic ex-wife Leonard was so fond of ranting about. I scowl.

"Of course he'd show up, Ellen!" I snap. "It's his kid's funeral!" The woman glares right back at me. Then huffs.

"Have fun with your new toy, Leonard." She drawls, dragging her nail across his chin as she stalks away.

"That woman! That is so messed up!" I growl to myself. Leo glares after her, then deflates and his lips tremble as he takes a breath.

"She is going to be the death of me." He groans, voice wavering. I shake my head, exhaling slowly to regain control of myself.

"Let's just find our seats. As far away from that beesh as possible." Leo chuckles weakly.

"'Beesh'?" He asks. I smack his arm playfully.

"Oh, hush!" Unfortunately, the funeral starts as soon as we are seated and all cheer dies.

=#=#=#=#=

"So...what did Ellen mean by 'toy'?" I ask, confused, a few days of screwing up my courage later.

Leonard sighs. Since the funeral, he'd been different, more...friendly, but less inclined to discuss Johana or Ellen, really. He suddenly became interested in me and my favorite things and wants and desires.

I never told him the one thing I wanted most; him, happy and genuinely content, finally moving past this awful experience. I didn't want to jeopardize the friendship we'd formed, the trust we had between us.

"Well...she seems to think I've rebounded from our divorce...onto you." He replies I grimace a little at the uncouth mental picture that conjured up, despite the blush in my cheeks.

"Oh. Well, you do seem quite fond of me." I tease, poking his side. He gives me a genuine smile.

"Of course I am. Everyone else just pities me. You're the only one actually trying to do something to help. I like that about you." I blush a little and smile.

"Oh, really?" I reply. "And here I thought it was my witty one-liners." Leo laughs.

"Oh, those really help your case, believe me." I grin widely. I was more happy than I probably should be at the knowledge that Leonard Horatio McCoy (yes, his middle name is Horatio; feel free to do what you will with that knowledge), God of sarcastic, witty one-liners, enjoyed mine. It was a nice, warm feeling, really. But platonic, pure and simple.

...I think.

=#=#=#=#=

I raced down the street to the park Bones and I usually meet at, giddy and bouncy. After all, it wasn't everyday you got this kind of good news! Then, just as I prepare to step off the pathway and make my way up to our usual meeting spot on the crest of a hill, I trip, nearly spilling our ice cream everywhere, when out of nowhere, a strong figure sighs, grabs the back of my shirt, and hauls me back a step so I can regain my balance. I spin, already knowing who it was, grinning wildly.

"Hey, Leo!" I chirp, thrusting his ice cream into his hands. "I got accepted!" I exclaim, unable to keep it in any longer. He stares at me for a second, then he starts laughing.

"That's great! Me, too!" He then side-hugs me easily as we walk to our usual spot. "For a little while, I was worried for yah, but...you somehow managed it." I roll my eyes.

"Oh, stop! You helped me study for the entrance exam! I'm sure that's part of why I passed." Leonard shrugged.

"That, and you're pretty much the smartest girl I know." I blush a little and tuck my hair behind my ears. Damn, he's smooth.

"Hey, now. I'm not a bartender anymore. No need to sweet-talk me." I reply, slipping out of the embrace to sit down. He just rolls his eyes and sits beside me.

"I'm just stating facts, Winnie." I blush even more and turn my head.

"Over exaggerated facts." I mumble. Leonard gently grips my chin and makes me look at him. His eyes...I've never seen them like that. They're completely happy and warm and...it's truly a miracle he can look like this, after everything he's been through.

"Rowena, you are amazing. I mean that. You just...give and give and- -ah, to Hell with it!" Then, he's leaning in and grabbing me and suddenly I'm leaning in, too, and we're kissing and it's everything I thought a first kiss should be. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't help it." He whispers when we break apart for air, his hands still on my shoulder blades where he'd gently pulled me in. I can only sit there processing everything for a few seconds.

"...What are you apologizing for, Leo?" I then ask, smirking. "That was…" Unable to verbalize the extent to which I'd enjoyed the kiss, I decide to show, not tell, and pull him in for another kiss.

=#=#=#=#=

"I don't want to fly there." He groans. I roll my eyes.

"Come on, Leo. We have to fly there. No other way."

"Then tell them 'thanks, but no thanks' for me, will yah?" I shake my head fondly, spinning him around and shoving him onto the shuttle.

"Oh, no you don't!" I chirp, steering him deeper inside. "You've already paid tuition, buster! Get on the shuttle already!" He groans and starts walking on his own.

"Fine. I gotta take a whiz. Be back. Save me a seat, will yah?" He grumbles, slouching off to the bathroom, his head nearly brushing the ceiling. I sigh in fond exasperation, watching his back fade away as I move to reserve two seats. As I focus on buckling in, I hear a passenger take the seat two down from me, as I'd placed my bag on Leo's seat, telling an African-American woman he 'still didn't get first name'. I look up to see a handsome blonde man with sharp, enticing blue eyes. He smiles politely at me once he was through giving an equal smile to the other woman. I smile back.

He then looks away and I reach over to pull out a book to read on the hour and a half long shuttle ride to the Academy. Then, after a few minutes of reading, I frown, wondering what was taking Leonard so long. I sigh, putting my bookmark in, setting it down on my seat, and walking over to the bathroom.

"Leo? You in there?" I ask, knocking softly on the door.

"Yeah, Win. I'm here." He grumbles.

"It's been five minutes. You okay?" I press. He groans.

"I was thinking...I'd just hang in here." He replies vaguely. I frown.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"For how long?"

"...The whole ride." I roll my eyes. He'd mentioned something about a severe dislike of flying, but this was ridiculous.

"Leonard, really. Come on. I'll be right beside you. It'll be- -"

"Sir, you need to get out of the restroom immediately. We cannot allow anyone to be in there when we're about to take off." Came an officer's voice and a woman came into view a second later, opening the door and dragging Leonard out. "If you need a doctor, sir- -"

"I don't need a doctor, dammit! I am a doctor!" Leo snaps back in reply. I sigh, turning to the woman.

"So sorry." I mumble. "I'll just- -"

"You need to get him back to his seat, ma'am." She cuts me off. I nod.

"I had one! In the bathroom! With no windows!" Leonard replies snappishly as he stubbornly resists my tugging toward the seats.

"You need to return to your seat, now!" The woman huffs, quickly losing patience.

"Leo, are you- -" I begin to ask, but he interjects.

"I'm fine, Winnie!" Leonard sighs, wrenching his arm free. "I just suffer from aviophobia, which means fear of dying in something that flies!" I frown at the revelation, but set it aside for now.

"Sir, for your own safety, sit down or else I'll make you sit down!" She replies, glaring up at him. After a few tense seconds, Leonard deflates, subtly taking my hand, nodding and moving to sit.

"Fine." He growls.

"Thank you." The woman replies hotly. I sigh and smile at the woman, even as Leonard tugs me toward my seat gently.

"So sorry, again." I mumble. She just sighs and walks away. I then buckle myself back in. "Want to listen to my music and borrow a book?" I ask. "I gotta few." He shrugs as Captain Pike's voice clears us for takeoff.

"I'll be fine, long as we're holdin' hands, darlin'." He mumbles, and I swear he has a tint of red to his cheeks. "Though, I may throw up on yah." He growls as he lets go of my hand for a second to grab the harness, peeking over at the blonde guy on his other side. "Either of you." I shrug.

"You could also aim for the floor." I point out. The blonde man on Leonard's other side looks over at to him.

"I think these things are pretty safe." He muses. Leonard glares at him.

"Don't pander to me, kid. One tiny crack in the hull, and our blood boils in thirteen seconds. Solar flare might crop up, cook us in our seats. And wait til yer sitting pretty with a case o' Andorian Shingles. See if yer still so relaxed when yer eyeballs are bleeding!" I roll my eyes, refraining- -barely- -from chuckling.

"Babe, those tragedies are a million to one chances. Just breath, picture our hill, okay? Butter Rum ice cream on a hot day, just enjoying the sun." Leonard smiles.

"Thanks fer trying, but space is disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence."

"Oh, don't be overdramatic. Besides, alien sickness spreading to humans is not common." I reply, waving off his concern. The guy beside me just smirks and manages an even, deadpan voice for his next words.

"She's right, and, I hate to break this to you, but Starfleet operates in space…" Leonard nods, digging in his coat pocket.

"Leo, don't." I caution softly.

"Yeah, well, ain't got no place left to go; the ex-wife took the whole damn planet in the divorce. All I got left's my bones." He says, taking a sip from a flask. I sigh.

"And that wonderful, happy personality." I mumble. Leo scoffs.

"Everyone else is too fricking depressed; figured I'd lighten the mood." We simultaneously burst into laughter for a few seconds before Leo offers the flask to the guy. He takes it.

"Jim Kirk." He introduces before he takes a sip.

"McCoy. Leonard McCoy." Leo replies, accepting the flask back. Jim nods.

"And this is?" He asks awkwardly, gesturing to me. I smile and reach across Leo to shake his hand.

"Rowena Scott."

And thus began a slightly strange, but all around enjoyable, friendship between the three of us.

I FEEL LIKE I BUTCHERED BONES' CHARACTER HERE, BUT IT WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE, I CAN'T BRING MYSELF TO CARE TOO MUCH. I DID TRY TO KEEP HIM IN-CHARACTER, THOUGH. LET ME KNOW IF YOU THINK I SUCCEEDED!


	8. Every God Needs a Goddess (Priest AU)

**I MOST** _ **DEFINITELY**_ **NEED TO EXPLAIN MYSELF FOR THIS ONE. I LOOKED AT KARL URBAN'S FILMOGRAPHY ON WIKIPEDIA, AND WAS INTRIGUED BY A MOVIE TITLED 'PRIEST'. FROM THERE, I WAS PROMPTLY LED ON A POST-APOCALYPTIC WILD-WEST ADVENTURE. IT HAD VAMPIRES AGAINST HUMANS, BUT THESE VAMPS ARE NASTY, DEFORMED CREATURES AND THE CHURCH RUN EVERYTHING WITH THE PRIESTS AND PRIESTESSES AS THE MAJOR FIGHTING FORCE AGAINST THE VAMPIRES. ANYWAY, KARL PLAYS THE ONLY HUMAN VAMPIRE AND SELF-TITLED 'GOD OF VAMPIRES', BLACK HAT! LITERALLY, THAT'S THE ONLY THING WE'RE GIVEN AS A NAME FOR HIM IN THE MOVIE, SO I NAMED HIM LUKE, CUS IT FITS WITH A HEADCANNON I HAVE THAT THE CLERGY CHOOSE PEOPLE WITH BIBLE NAMES, THE APOSTLES IN PARTICULAR, AS PRIESTS AND PRIESTESSES.**

 **FAIR WARNING: THIS IS A LITTLE DARK, BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, I THINK. HOPE YOU LIKE IT! NOW, LAST THING: REVIEWS!**

 **Indigo575: I am so happy! Glad you really liked my surprise! Quite frankly, the reboot movies are my only experience with Star Trek, but I have all three on DVD, and _love_ them! And Karl Urban plays Bones, so how could I resist?! ;)**

 **Anyway, hope this surprises you, too!**

 **Me and Not You 1001: I think you'd like the reboot movies, if you ever get the opportunity to watch them. Glad you pushed through the confusion and even enjoyed the chapter!**

 **GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

 **~THE LUPINE SOJOURNER**

I was on my way home. It had been a simple trip to the market to nab a few things for dinner. That was it. No big deal. Sure, it was at night, but I'd done this route a hundred times with no incidents.

This time, however...I could tell something was...off. I couldn't put a finger on just _what_ was off, but I knew something was different, and not in a good way. I felt hunted, stalked by something decidedly malevolent. I'd tried to hitch up my courage and walk normally, but my nerves got the better of me and I began to speed my way down to the small house I lived alone in.

That is, until I ran- -literally- -into a man I'd swear I knew from somewhere, standing there like he _wanted_ me to bump into him. I was grabbed by the waist, and brought back to a standing position, groceries spilling everywhere, to see only practically glowing golden eyes like honey that I sank far too deep in, my eyelids suddenly becoming heavy and slowly falling. Darkness swept over me and I was aware of nothing more.

=#=#=#=#=

When I awoke, I was instantly aware that I was tied down sprawled on my back on something elevated and made of stone. Upon waking further, I noted that I was underground, by the musky, earthy smell.

Danggit, Luke! So many years later, and you still haunt me...make me more observant than I'd ever been. _"I just don't want you hurt, darlin'."_ He'd told me when I protested the lessons and tips he'd been relentlessly giving me. " _I've heard rumors...nasty folk abroad, even talk of vamps out there, just outside the gates."_

 _"We're **teenagers** , Luke."_ I'd retorted. _"We must trust the church and the Priests to protect us."_ I'd added softly, caressing his cheek. It was true; he was barely fourteen, and I was just a month behind him. He'd scoffed and pushed my hand away.

 _"What good's the church doing other than keeping us 'safe' behind walls of stone, feeding us paranoia? Huh?"_ I'd never found an answer I was comfortable admitting to myself and the young man I was seriously considering dating, so I dropped the issue. Then Orelas came for him.

He came back hardened and haunted by the war and we'd hardly talked anymore, but then he slipped away again...killed in action.

Or so I'd been told by the Priests' leader, Peter, five years ago. He'd knelt on my living room floor and begged for me to forgive his weakness. In honor of Luke's memory, I found it in myself to forgive him.

Then, as if my thoughts had summoned him, I hear Luke's voice.

"Well, well, well. Been quite some time, angel." That was a petname he'd use when he was sweet-talking me. I crane my neck as he approaches my head. His voice was different, somehow, more silky and smooth, but with those alluring edges to it I'd come to cherish in memory...til now. I swallow thickly, but manage a smile.

"L-Luke?" I whisper, shocked to see the handsome face I'd lost once more, wearing a black gambler's hat and overcoat, giving him a downright alluring outlaw appearance. "Peter told me you were gone! He told me- -"

"I'm here now, Lizzie. Let's simply accept that, shall we?" He asks with an almost dangerous tone, and as he approaches, I notice beneath the rim of his hat...those golden eyes I'd been lost in just before losing consciousness. For some reason, asking if he was the one who kidnapped me seemed a bad move, so I choose another of my multiple questions.

"What's with those eyes?" I mumble without thinking. "They're, uh, different." The laughter I've only heard in my dreams for nearly five years fills my ears, even if it seems almost sinister and echo-y in...wherever we are. One odd thing I note is that he is careful to keep his teeth hidden behind his lips. Weird. Normally, he just laughs and lets his teeth show without a care.

"Oh, sweetheart, you ain't changed a bit." He says, his hand gently strokes my cheek, down my jawline, before he bops my nose as he says 'bit'. "You grew even more radiant since I've been gone." I smile at the compliment. I can't help it. He had that effect on me.

"You've grown more handsome, too." I reply carefully. There was something odd about him, something...very different. He leans on his elbows to get closer and he breaths me in for a moment.

"Aw, hell, woman. I've missed you...so much." He whispers, still taking the sight of me in.

"I've missed you, too. Let's get out of here." I reply, leaning up to lay a sweet, chaste kiss on his lips, like I had the night before Sol Mira. _For luck_ , I'd said. This time, something's wrong, though. He kisses back, yes, but carefully, as if he were hiding something in his mouth. Which is odd.

"Not just yet, angel." He replies smoothly. I frown, my gut squirming in unease at the hungry smirk he now wears. "First, you must taste something." I raise a brow.

"Can I do that without being tied to a stone table?" He laughs.

"Wit's just as sharp as ever, I see." He muses, shaking his head fondly as he continues to chuckle. "No, darling. You gotta be tied down for this. Oh, and here's something to bite down on, too." I open my mouth to protest, but Luke merely stuffs a wide strip of leather into my mouth, cutting off any protest I might have had. I grew steadily more frightened when the man I love leaned in, his mouth turned up in a hungry smirk, inches from my neck as his fingers tenderly moved hair aside. Then, he put a hand on my shoulder. "This'll hurt, Lizzie." He whispers, with that unsettlingly hungry smirk still in place. He then makes a series of clicks and I hear several somethings- -Vampires, I realize a horrible moment later- -hastening to answer the call as Luke closes the distance to my neck and bites- -yes, _bites_ \- -my neck! Then, all is agony and tearing flesh and more bodies than I can count, to the music of my muffled screams for what seems an eternity before- -"Enough!" Luke snaps. "We are not to kill her before she tastes the queen's gift." He orders, wiping the tears, grime, and blood from my face and removing the leather from my mouth. I flinch away in fear.

"Wh-why are you doing this?" I sob, panting as the agony continues. "It hurts, so much!" He looks stricken, like he had expected a different reaction as he strokes my cheek affectionately.

"Oh, Elizabeth, every god needs a goddess."

"I don't understand, Luke." I retort, sobbing in agony again, tugging weakly against the bonds and away from his hand. "I...I can't breath, it hurts so bad!" He shushes me gently, smoothing the hair away from my face again tenderly.

"It's alright, angel. All will be clear in a moment." He replies in a hushed, gentle tone one might take with a distraught child or a wounded cornered animal, removing my fresh tears. "Soon as the queen bestows her gift on you." He smiles, this time a true, toothy smile, grinning and gazing in wonder at something beyond my line of sight. I gasp in shock when I see inside Luke's mouth.

"Y-you're teeth!" I shriek. "Th-they're…" I can't bring myself to verbalize and confirm what my eyes are seeing. He continues to display them for a moment, proud of them.

They were pointed. Like a vampire.

"Yes, they are. Now here is the Angel of Mercy herself, my saving grace. Soon, she'll be yours, too." Before I can look or ask what is going on, Luke grabs my mouth and keeps it open that way, and I squirm in protest before something thick, warm, and coppery tasting falls into my mouth, dripping on down to my wounds, and I feel it starting to burn against the open gashes. Luke then forces my mouth shut and I squirm even harder as the stuff burns in my mouth.

Was it...blood? Had the man I loved just fed me blood?! Eventually, I have to swallow and I gag at the way it burns down my throat. Then, as my mouth is freed, I feel the burning go through my entire body. I grimace and cough up as much of it as possible.

"Luke, what was- -Agh!" There was another wave of utter agony and I scream again. In a moment, as if snapped back to reality from a bad dream, I was in no pain and I sat up, ready to laugh in elation for some reason. I felt...powerful, dangerous, and capable. More so than ever before. And I understood everything with a certain clarity.

Vampires were not to be hated and destroyed. No, no, no! You do not destroy such a pure art form as this, surely! No, it is to be protected, encouraged, spread. Everyone should feel this way. I want everyone to feel this way. I know now...I know why Luke had to do this to me. I'd have never agreed before this peace and clarity came to me from Her Majesty herself. I bow to Her Excellency humbly in thanks for her gift. She truly was an angel of mercy as Luke had said. Pity I resisted.

"Thank you, your majesty." I intone in utmost gratitude before she bids me rise without needing words. Our mission is clear.

Spread our gospel to the entire world. Become the tidal wave that cleanses the world. I look to Luke and he smiles.

"Good to see you again, my love." And I smile back as he hands me a change of clothes to fit my change in...everything.

I had now discovered my purpose in life; faithful service to my queen, the Angel of Mercy.

Nothing would stop me fulfilling that purpose. Nothing.


	9. Two Whiskeys on the Rocks 2 (Star Trek)

**SO, I HEARD THIS SONG ON THE RADIO AND WAS INSPIRED TO WRITE THIS.**

 **TO BE HONEST, I KINDA FEEL LIKE I WENT ALL OVER THE PLACE WITH THIS CHAPTER, ESPECIALLY INCLUDING THE TIE-IN TO MY OTHER STAR TREK STORY, 'Well Oiled Romance- -er, ship', BUT HOPE YOU ALL LIKE REGARDLESS!**

 **IT ALSO GOES WITHOUT SAYING THAT I DO NOT OWN 'HARD TO LOVE' BY LEE BRICE. I DO REALLY LIKE THE SONGS, THOUGH. NOW, TO THE REVIEWS!**

 **Hollarious969: Thanks for noticing! ;P I use Karl's filmography for inspiration on other potential AUs I can do. Glad you like it! And yes, Dredd is coming up! ...Soon as I buy and watch it to get a better feel for Dredd's character. I've actually started the story, though, so hang tight!**

 **Me and Not You 1001: Glad you liked it! Religion is one of the main themes in Priest, if you ask me, and so it definitely played a role in the story. My OC, Elizabeth, is religious herself, but also notices the hypocrisy and corruption in the Church, as does Black Hat/Luke.**

 **GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

 **~THE LUPINE SOJOURNER**

It was a semester til our graduation from the Academy and we are loving it- -even Leo, though he acts like he hates it. Somehow, Jim, Leo, and I all got the same dorm. We all chipped in to pay for it (Jim didn't have a lot to add, sadly) and it suited us, strangely enough, after we'd established routines and rules.

For instance, tonight was date night for Bones (Jim started it!) and I. Jim had taken little convincing, but we were firm.

Now, I was unlocking the door and stepping inside our dorm, to find music playing over our speaker system. Usually, that meant Jim was in. But that wasn't the case, so...why was there music playing?

I must admit, it was a lovely, simple guitar tune. Suddenly, I am being pulled into a swaying wedding dance. I grin up at Bones and open my mouth to say something as we sway, but then he sings! Let me say this; my man can _sing_!

" _I am insensitive. I have a tendency to pay more attention to the things that I need_." I roll my eyes as we continue swaying, a little faster than normal, but it was enjoyable regardless. " _Sometimes I drink too much, sometimes I test your trust. Sometimes I don't know why you stay with me_." I frown as he spins me. He's acting kinda weird...he doesn't serenade me at all.

"Bones, you don't have a disloyal bone in your body." I protest. He just kisses my forehead and continues singing.

" _I'm hard to love, hard to love. No, I don't make it easy. I'm hard to love, hard to love, and you say that you need me. Well, I don't deserve it, but I love that you love me, girl_." I suddenly laugh as he dips me and I kiss him soundly.

"I've never found it hard to love you, Leonard. Where's this coming from?" I ask. He sighs as we stand and sway again.

"Just been thinking a lot lately, and...it's made me realize some things." He then continues singing. "I am a short fuse, I am a wrecking ball, crashing into your heart like I do." I scoff.

"Now that's- -" He puts a gentle finger to my mouth, singing like nothing interrupted him. I note that his hands are strong, insisting I stay, but they tremble slightly as if afraid to hold me too close.

" _You're like a Sunday morning; full of grace and full of Jesus, and I wish that I could be more like you._ "

"Now, hold on!" I protest. This was glorifying me, setting me on a pedestal, and I didn't want that. He merely keeps singing.

" _I'm hard to love, hard to love, no, I don't make it easy. I couldn't do it if I stood where you stood. I'm hard to love, hard to love, and you say that you need me._ "

"I _do_!" I assure him. I didn't really like where this was going. "Bones, really, this- -" Once more, he cuts me off.

" _Girl, you've given me a million second chances, and I don't ever want to take you for granted!_ "

"You don't!" I protest, drawing away in confusion. "This is starting to scare me." I add, hand on Bones' shoulder. "What's wrong?" The song plays on, and I notice Bones has tears in his eyes. Knowing Bones, it meant something big was going on with him. He never cries.

"I just...this is the anniversary of...Johanna." He mumbles. I pale. Why hadn't I remembered?!

"Bones, I should've remembered! I am so sorry!" I squeak, hands over my mouth. Bones is suddenly peeling my hands back and kissing me.

"Darlin', I didn't draw attention to it on purpose." He then sighs. "But then I heard this song, and it hit me; I've been such an insensitive jerk!" I blink.

"Leonard, what are you talking about?"

"I know your brother and his wife were sent to Delta Vega, haven't been heard from since." My stomach drops. How could he know about that?

"Leo, how'd- -"

"Yer dad told me when we went to that graduation party for your cousin." I groan.

"I don't really like to broadcast that…" I mumble. Bones takes my hand.

"Your Pa didn't go into detail." He replies. I sigh. It was a bit of an obvious request for information, and I knew I couldn't avoid talking about it forever. May as well get it over with.

"Well, my brother is a truly gifted engineer. Really, he is. And Eavan was born to be a nurse. Or a doctor. Whichever. Then Monty started working on a theory about subspace travel, convinced that Starfleet was not using beaming to its full potential. His equation didn't work, though, when they tested it on Admiral Archer's prized beagle." Leonard grimaces.

"Yeah, that would get them a big ol' slap on the wrist. I am so sorry, Winnie." I sigh.

"Nothing I can do about it, really." I shrug. "All I can do is sit here missing them." He draws me to him and I squeeze him tightly.

"Darlin', I feel certain you'll see them again. Delta Vega's comm systems are just extremely unreliable because of the weather there." I sniffle.

"Yeah, and apparently it also means no one can go get them, either. Really, though, I know those jerks are just letting my siblings rot there for a beagle!" I then sigh, deflating. "The worst part is that I have no connections into the Admiralty, except Captain Pike, and he hasn't had any luck getting to talk to them. And that means I can't talk to the higher-ups, which means I'll not be seeing those two for a long time." I then force myself to pull it together and get this date back on less depressing topics. "I really appreciate this. Thank you." I tell him genuinely and hug him tightly. He smiles, but doesn't resist. I then pull him in for a kiss to show him just what he meant to me. Eventually, though neither of us could tell you how long it was, we had to break apart. I see then that he has taken something out of his pocket. He just takes my hand, slipping on a braided band and medium sized facet-cut emerald with another quick kiss. I blink.

"Oh, Bones, it's...it's amazing! I love it!" I squeak. This was beyond anything I could dream of! He'd finally proposed! I knew why he was reluctant, but it grew harder to remember when almost three years had gone by and still not even a hint of marriage talks.

Now...we were engaged!

"...You're not mad?" He asks. I wave aside his worried look.

"Hun, how could I be mad?! This is amazing!" I retort happily, eyeing the ring. "We could head down to the court tomorrow and sign the licenses, have a party later?" I ask. Bones laughs.

"Sure. Don't want another huge wedding, anyway." I blink. Right. This wasn't Bones' first wedding.

=#=#=#=#=

It's been confirmed; James Tiberius Kirk is the world's biggest drama queen.

"But... _why_?" He moans for the twentieth time. "Why _not_ go the whole nine yards with this thing?!" I scrub my face with my hands.

"For the _twentieth_ time, Jim, because it's what Leonard and I _want_. Isn't that enough?" He crosses his arms, pouting.

"Not without an explanation, it's not."

"Too bad." Comes the voice of my savior, Leonard McCoy, arm already around my waist. "It's _our_ wedding and it's what's happening. You and both our parents are the witnesses." Jim groans.

"Well, can I at least give a speech or something?"

Bones exhales slowly. "...Fine. We'll go out to eat afterwards as a celebration." He concedes. "But you _must_ be sober." Jim laughs.

"Can do!"

"Jim, we're serious! Our parents are coming!" I press. He claps my shoulder.

"Relax, Winnie. I'll be on my best behaviour. Scout's honor." I scoff.

"You never were a Scout!" I retort. He shrugs.

"Whatever."

=#=#=#=#=

It was _finally_ the big day. The sun was shining, it was a half-day to celebrate some alien holiday or something, and I was getting married! What could go wrong?

Enter Jim Kirk. "I'm taking the test again." I halt mid-stride.

" _What_?!" I growl. "Come _on_ , Jim!" I protest, resuming my pace after him. He was smiling and turning to admire a pair of female cadets.

"Hel-lo, ladies." He greets flirtatiously. Bones halts him with a hand gripping Jim's upper arm, spinning his friend around with a glare.

"Jim, seriously?!" He growls. "We're getting married!" He growls. "We've got better things to do the morning after the wedding than watch you embarrass yourself for a third time!" Jim wriggles his eyebrows.

"You mean better things to do _to each other_." I flush and smack him upside the head.

"That's _entirely_ beside the point!" I snap. "We're getting married and need a break from your shenanigans for a day or two!" Jim shrugs.

"At least I'm going to the celebration sober." I roll my eyes up then close them.

"Jim...that's _so_ not a justification."

"Listen, guys," Jim says in that stubborn, 'I can do what I want and no one can stop me' voice, "doesn't it bother you that no one's passed the test?" I scoff.

"No. It's the entire _point_ of the test to begin with!" I reply.

"JIm, it's the Kobayashi Maru!" Bones adds waspishly. " _No one_ passes the test, and _no one_ goes back for seconds, let alone _thirds_!" I grimace. Now the Kobayashi Maru was just more enticing for Jim. Sure enough, Jim just slaps Leo's shoulder.

"I gotta study." I frown, but Leo beats me to voicing our synced thoughts.

"Study, my ass."

=#=#=#=#=

I smooth down the cadet uniform I was still wearing for the millionth time while we were waiting to be seen by the judge.

"Winnie, calm down." Bones says soothingly, hand on my thigh. I nod. "It's only signing documents and reciting the usual wedding vows. Easy." I smile.

"I love you so much." I tell him, wrapping my arm around his and holding his hand. He leans his head against mine and chuckles.

"I love you, too, Rowena." I then smile as a thought occurs to me.

"You gotta admit; Rowena McCoy has a better ring to it than Rowena Scott." He laughs.

"That it does."

"Leonard McCoy and Rowena Scott?" Came the voice of the judge. We stand.

"Here." Leonard calls. The judge nods.

"I'm Judge Howard O'Bryan. I understand you two wish to get married?" I nod.

"Yessir." He smiles.

"Good. Everyone's gathered in the room already, so if you'll just follow me, we'll get started."

=#=#=#=#=

"So...now what?" I ask timidly when we arrive back at the dorm. Bones just takes my hand.

"Now...I show you what you mean to me." I blush deeper than scarlet and follow his lead, heart hammering as we enter the bedroom. Leo then takes his shirt off as I fumble with the buttons on mine. "Here. Let me." Bones whispers and I flush, but let him. From there, it's all a pleasantly warm and loving blur until I fall asleep at some point.

=#=#=#=#=

The next morning, I wake to a lonely bed and the smell of bacon and coffee. I smile and sit up, wincing when I discovered that I was incredibly sore in a specific area. I force myself to work through it, not regretting it at all. In fact, I embrace it, because it was the most amazing experience I've ever felt. Ever. Coming into the kitchen/main area, I grin when I find my husband making eggs and humming to himself. It's the song we danced to when he proposed, 'Hard to Love'. I start singing along and the way he jumps made the walk out here well worth it. I laugh and sit at the table as he recovers.

"I wasn't expecting you up so soon." He muses, smirking. I smirk back.

"I'm resilient."

"I know." He replies, kissing my forehead. "So...I was going to serve you breakfast in bed, but since you came to me, I'll get to eat with you." He says with a grin, setting a plate down in front of me. I beam at him and draw him in for a kiss.

"I love you, Dr. McCoy."

"I love you more, Dr.. McCoy." He replies. He then sighs and steps back to sit in the seat next to me, where his own plate waited. "Now, unfortunately, thanks to that bone-headed best friend of ours, we gotta eat quick and report to the simulation." I roll my eyes.

"Ah, yes. The Kobayashi Maru. How delightful." I drawl, then smile at Bones' amused look before we dig in.

=#=#=#=#=

"I did it!" JIm cheers afterwards, smirking cockily. I roll my eyes.

"Jim, you and I both know cheating doesn't count as beating the test." I retort, deadpanning at him.

"Yes, it does. I completed the mission."

"By altering the source code!" I snap. "Jim, that is _so_ wrong! You're going to get in so much trouble!" I warn severely, poking his chest. Jim just slaps my shoulder.

"Take it easy. You're just crabby cus I interrupted your love-making." I blush, but stalk furiously after him.

"James Tiberius Kirk, so help me, I'm gonna _kill_ you!" I screech, Bones taking off after me as I race toward my best friend to wring that arrogant, cocky neck.

=#=#=#=#=

"Cadet Kirk, evidence has been submitted to this council that you violated the Ethical Code of Conduct pursuit to Regulation 17.3 of the Starfleet Code." I give Jim a 'told you so' look when he glances our way as he came to stand behind a podium before the Council. "Is there anything you care to say before we begin, sir?" Admiral Barnett asks. Jim takes only a second to think of something, smug little turd.

"Yes. I believe I have the right to face my accuser directly." He replies. Adm. Barnett nods to a gentleman from the row of grey uniforms along the stairs. "Step forward, please." As the man obeys, I note the Vulcan ears. Of _course_ a Vulcan was the one that figured it out.

"This is Commander Spock. He's one of our most distinguished graduates. He's programmed the Kobayashi Maru for the last four years." I gulp. Jim was in deep now. Barnett motions Spock to speak. "Commander?"

"Cadet Kirk, you somehow managed to install and activate a subroutine in the programming code, thereby changing the conditions of the test." Spock reports

"Your point being?" I face-palm. Jim, you idiot.

"In academic vernacular, you cheated." The Admiral replies. Jim looks momentarily lost for words, then licks his lips.

"Let me ask you something" here, he gives a little scoff, "I think we all know the answer to; the test itself is a cheat, isn't it?" I roll my eyes. He'd have to do better than that, by far. "You programmed it to be unwinnable."

Spock nods. "You're argument precludes the possibility of a no-win scenario." He points out. Jim smirks and nods.

"I don't believe in no-win scenarios." Spock almost scowls.

"Then not only did you violate the rules, you also failed to understand the principal lesson." He replies evenly, eyes only slightly narrowed.

"Please, enlighten me." Jim snarks.

"You, of all people, should know Cadet Kirk; a Captain cannot cheat death." I gasp in shock. That was a low blow, Commander Spock! Murmurs and whispers ring around the room as Jim's jaws sets angrily and he bows his head, swallowing hard.

"I, of all people?" He asks. I pinch the bridge of my nose; that was the _wrong_ thing to say, Jim.

Spock nods. "Your father, Lieutenant George Kirk, assumed command of his vessel shortly before being killed in action, did he not?" Jim's eyes are the only thing that betrays his emotions. Grief, outrage, anger...guilt. Not that he displays them outwardly.

"I don't think you like the fact that I beat your test." He snaps.

"Furthermore, you have failed to divine the purpose of the test." Spock retorts.

"Enlighten me again." Jim growls through gritted teeth.

"The purpose is to experience fear. Fear in the face of certain death. To accept that fear and to maintain control of one's self and one's crew. This is a quality expected in every Starfleet Captain." I grimace. Poor Jim, being reminded of his father and being lambasted by an unfeeling Vulcan. Ouch.

Before Jim can think of a reply, an ensign walks in and delivers a PADD to the head councilman. The ensign is dismissed and the PADD read.

"We've received a distress call from Vulcan. With our primary fleet engaged in the Lorentian System, I hereby order all Cadets to report to Hangar 1 immediately."

"What?" I breath. "No way…"

"Dismissed." Admiral Barnett orders and I stand automatically.

Crap. I go with Bones to stand by Jim, and we watch Spock disappear in the crowd.

"Who was that pointy-eared bastard?" Jim asks. Bones frowns.

"I don't know, but I like him." I sigh.

"He used a cheap tactic on Kirk, being up his dad like that. I almost went down there to give him a piece of my mind." I retort, then deflate. "Come on. We gotta report to Hangar 1."


	10. Requested Scene 2: Mines of Moria

**HERE YOU GO, Indigo575! THANKS FOR REQUESTING AND HOPE YOU LIKE! NOW, FOR REVIEWS!**

 **Me and Not You 1001: I am so sorry you were confused and didn't understand, but hopefully my PMs helped? Well, we're back in Middle-Earth, so that should help, too! ;)**

 **GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

 **~THE LUPINE SOJOURNER**

"Here lies Balin, son of Fundin." Gandalf reads as Gimli falls to his knees, weeping. I put a hand on Gimli's shoulder respectfully, sighing heavily. "It is as I feared, then." Gandalf mumbles, handing his hat and staff to Pippin and picking up a book from a skeleton leaning on the tomb.

"I'm so sorry, Gimli." I say, kneeling down and drawing the Dwarf in for a hug, which he surprisingly accepts. Poor Dwarf is devastated, weeping into my shoulders.

"We must move on. We cannot linger." Legolas cautions to Aragorn, who frowns.

"Give Gimli a moment, Legolas!" I bark, still holding the sobbing Dwarf. "He's just found out his cousin is dead!"

"'They have taken the bridge," Gandalf reads and I then notice the amount of dust everywhere. I then realize that this didn't _just_ happen. This has been like this for a long time. "and the second hall.'" He continues, sending a chill down my spine.

"What took the bridge and the second hall?" I ask.

"Orcs, if I had to guess." Boromir growls.

"'We have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long.'" Gandalf continues. "'The ground shakes. Drums. Drums in the deep. We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out. They are coming.'"

"Then we should be leaving!" I retort, hitching my satchel up. Just then, Pippin reaches for an arrow stuck in a skeleton sitting on the well. "Pippin, no!" I cry, too late. He's twisting it and the head flops off, back into the well and down, knocking loudly against the stone. "Pippin!" I snap, even as the rest of the skeleton falls, taking the bucket and chain with it. Poor guy winces at every booming thud and noise the skeleton makes. There's tense silence as we wait to see what happens now. Absently, I reach into my satchel for my glock, hoping I wouldn't have to use it.

"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf growls as he lividly snatches his hat and staff back. "Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!" He snaps.

"Calm down, Gandalf!" I bark. "Pippin didn't _mean_ to make noise! He was just messing around!" I retort, then stiffen as I hear it.

A drum. Drums in the deep. Just like in the account Gandalf read.

 _Frick_.

=#=#=#=#=

As the drums get louder and nearer, we try to prepare for the assault as best we can. I help Legolas and Aragorn gather spears and halberds before I go with Boromir to close the door. An arrow whizzes past our heads, barely missing as it sinks into the door. I let out a squeak of shock and peer at where it came from. A sea of black, horrible things are coming, with something very big and very nasty looking bringing up the rear. I then yank the doors closed and lean against them, eyes wide.

"Were those things Orcs?" I mumble stupidly. Boromir nods.

"Aye." He then turns to Aragorn. "They have a cave troll." Boromir grumbles, as if it were only a minor inconvenience.

"That big, nasty thing in the back?" I ask as I grab my glock and the holster I'd been given along with it, making sure I had a full magazine and cocking it before clipping the holster on. Boromir nods as he helps pile the gathered spears and halberds to bar the door.

"Yes."

"What is that?" Merry asks, pointing at my gun.

"You'll see. Now get behind me. Stay with me and Gandalf, okay?" I then pull the hammer back as whatever's outside comes banging on the flimsy, ancient door.

"Let them come!" Gimli roars, standing atop the tomb with his ax drawn. "There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!" Within seconds, the door starts to crack open and I fire just as Aragorn and Legolas shoot their bows. Everyone flinches and I curse under my breath. It may be the only weapon I have, but it makes a crap-ton of noise in this confined space. I have to keep firing, though, as these horrible looking mutations come barreling into the room. All is then chaos and noise as we try to hold our positions. I keep firing, making sure to keep track of the Hobbits, even as they join the fight.

Then, as if the situation weren't bad enough, in smashes that cave troll Boromir so casually mentioned earlier.

"Sam, look out!" I scream, but Sam is already ducking between it's legs as it swings at him. I breath out in relief and fire at it's shoulder, but it only makes the troll mad and after me. I curse and scramble away, trying to find somewhere that thing couldn't get me.

"Rowena!" Boromir roars as he and Aragorn take the chain and yank with all their might. It manages to halt and unbalance the troll, but then it spins and Boromir is given only a second to realize he's still holding the chain before he's sent careening to the other side of the room.

"Boromir!" I scream as he falls limp to the ground. I race over, firing at the few Orcs in that area, and find Boromir sitting up, shaking his head and standing. "You okay?" I ask worriedly. He nods.

"Come. The battle still rages." He replies, grabbing his sword and charging back into the fray. I sigh. He had a concussion, I was almost positive, but stopping to explain it to him would probably do nothing but guarantee our deaths. So, reluctantly, I rejoin the battle, making sure to stay near Boromir, in case he suddenly passed out or something.

In another part of the room, Gimli threw one of his throwing axes at the troll, which only enraged it further as it charged toward him. Gimli barely dodged as the huge mace came crashing down onto the tomb of Balin. He then used that blind rage to make the swings of the mace take out a few Orcs.

Just as Gimli was getting up, and the mace was about to come down, Legolas shot the troll's collarbone and I pulled Gimli up, firing at a few Orcs as I did. Legolas, now the troll's primary target, had to dodge swings of the chain, until he finally seized an opportunity and jammed the chain into broken stone, climbing up it and standing on the troll's shoulders, firing two arrows at it's head. They do nothing against it's thick skin, and he leaps off. The troll, stumbling around in agony, snaps the chain and reels around. I then notice Sam banging Orcs with a frying pan. I smile.

"Frying pans." I muse, referencing Tangled and knowing he wouldn't get it. "Who knew, right?" He chuckles.

"I think I'm getting the hang of this!" He chirps. I grin.

"Just keep going!" I am then alerted by Pippin's scream, whipping around to see the troll swinging at the three other Hobbits. "No!" I scream, firing at its shoulder. It screeches and I sprint over to Frodo as the troll searches for me.

"Frodo! Rowena!" Aragorn cries, slaying more Orcs as fast as he could to get to us.

"Don't worry; I got him!" I call back as I pull Frodo with me behind a pillar. The troll doesn't see us and we move as it circles to search the other side of the pillar. After a second or two, it leaves and I slowly come out.

We breath out in relief, only for the troll to appear and roar at us. I squeak in fright and Frodo trips over his feet. Before I can even aim the gun, Frodo and I were grabbed and dragged toward the troll. I try to find a good grip, cursing under my breath. I then give up and aim at the thing's head. I fire at its eye and it roars, dropping us. I stand and prepare to fire again. Only for Aragorn to jump down from a chunk of rock with a halberd at the ready, stabbing it into the troll's chest. The troll merely smacks Aragorn into me and together we crash into the pillar Frodo and I hid behind.

As I collapse to the ground, I hear a ringing in my ears and couldn't move a muscle, even when I barely hear the troll approaching and feel Frodo shaking us, calling our names worriedly. There are sounds of a brief struggle, and I desperately wish I could get up as I hear Frodo gasp in pain and struggle to breath.

What was happening?! Why can't I move yet?! I hear Frodo collapse as Sam calls his name. Everything then kicks into gear and the Fellowship roar in outrage, fighting off what few Orcs remained. Merry and Pippin, it seems, are trying to deal with the troll.

Then, as if I, too, were given whatever second wind came over the others, I could move again. I instantly check Frodo over, but can't find anything encouraging. I regrettably have to leave him and deal with the troll. Merry has been tossed off the troll and Gimli is trying to hold it off long enough to let Merry get up. I race over, pull Merry to his feet and take aim at the troll's mouth as Pippin stabs it again and again in the neck. Legolas and I fire in sync and the troll slows, feeling it's mouth before collapsing, dead. Pippin is sent flying and I barely catch him. I then hug him.

"Good job!" I praise. In the quiet that envelops us, Aragorn regains consciousness and crawls despondently to Frodo. Sam looks on in grief and shock and I give him a side-hug, unsure of what else to do. The grief of what happened hits me full-force and I tear up. Then, just as Aragorn flips the Hobbit over, he begins breathing! I start in shock before sprinting over. "Frodo! How in the frick did that not- -oh." I then notice a gleam of some kind of mail from beneath his shirt.

"He's alive, Ms. Rowena, and that's all that matters now." Sam replies happily, deflating in relief as he puts a comforting hand on his friend's forearm.

"I'm alright. I'm not hurt." Frodo says, feeling his chest and panting slightly. I shake my head in wonder.

"You should be dead." Aragorn muses, relief coursing through his very being. "That spear would have skewered a wild boar."

"I think there's more to this Hobbit than meets the eye." Gandalf points out. Frodo then pulls his shirt down to reveal a very handsome looking mail shirt.

"Mithril." Gimli breaths in awe. Then, we hear more Orc drums and pattering feet on their way. I pale.

"Oh, come _on_!" I snap, standing and helping Aragorn up, who in turn gave Frodo assistance.

"To the Bridge of Khazad-Dum!" Gandalf orders briskly. We sprint out of the room to find that the Orcs were closer than we thought. They came crawling down the huge pillars of the main hall Gandalf had showed off earlier, before we went into that accursed side room. The Orcs looked like spiders, crawling over everything to get to us. We keep running until we realize they have us surrounded. I grip my glock in readiness as the Orcs press closer.

Just as they're about to overrun and eat us, however, there's a deep, gut-wrenching roar from deep within Moria and even the Orcs tremble in fear. They screech in terror and are gone in an instant, more roars greeting us as whatever was coming approached.

"What is that?" I ask no one in particular. Gandalf looks resigned, yet afraid and I raise a brow.

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir adds and Gandalf takes a second to answer, his eyes scrunched in some emotion I can't read.

"Gandalf?" I ask. I'd never seen him like this, so scared, so...vulnerable.

"It is a Balrog." He says hesitantly. "A demon of the ancient world." I gulp. Great. Waittaminute...isn't this where- -oh, crap! Oh, no! I bring my gun to a ready position, but Gandalf pushes it back down. "This foe is beyond any of you. Run!" He orders and we do. Once we get to a flight of stairs, I have to screech to a halt as I almost topple of a ledge! I scream out in fright as Boromir collides with me, nearly pitching us over the brink. We try to regain our balance but are quickly failing. That is, until Legolas pulls us back by the backs of our shirts.

"...Thanks." I mumble gratefully, scrambling to my feet and we continue down the actual flight of stairs. Running with this size a group over this narrow a path was decidedly dangerous, but we have no choice, so I position myself closer to the wall, not the bottomless pit, and keep running. The temperature spikes as we round a bend and fire springs up out of nowhere. I frown. What the heck? I whirl around when I realize Gandalf is not with us to see him standing and facing...I can't even describe it! It's certainly demon-esque, with horns and the raging fire around it to complete the picture. "Gandalf!" I scream. "Come on!" Thankfully, he does. Together, we race to the bridge, and I fall in behind Boromir and ahead of Frodo, running for my life across the narrowest bridge ever. Without handrails, to boot!

I then remember the iconic scene coming up from the movie and whirl. No, no, no! Seeing it in a movie was one thing, but actually _being_ here, getting to know Gandalf... _no_!

"You cannot pass!" Gandalf snaps at the Balrog.

"What are you doing?!" I screech. "Gandalf, get over here!" But it does no good. He merely lifts his staff.

"I am a servant of the Secret Fire, Wielder of the Flame of Arnor! Dark Fire will not avail you, Flame of Udun!" He growls and a sphere of white light encircles the wizard as the balrog rears up in rage, preparing to assault Gandalf with a flaming sword. The sword crashes onto the sphere, but it holds, barely. Sparks fly and Gandalf grunts, but is still standing when the sparks die off. "Go back to the Shadow!" Gandalf roars. The balrog merely steps forward, drawing out a whip of pure flame, cracking it menacingly. Gandalf does not flinch or back down, raising his staff and gathering his strength. "You. Shall not. Pass!" He thunders, slamming the staff down onto the bridge. Then, just as the balrog begins to charge forward, the bridge cracks beneath its feet and it is sent into the pit, roaring in shock as it falls. Then, as I knew it would, the whip snaps around Gandalf's feet and he falls, grabbing at the edge and clinging on for dear life.

"No!" I scream, running forward, only to be stopped by Aragorn. I tear through the restraint and sprint forward.

"Fly, you fools." Gandalf says and I am just a split second too late.

"Gandalf!" I cry, grabbing at his hands, but he is too far down and is lost. I sob and don't even notice everyone's screams for me to come back. I can't believe it. I know he comes back, but...to see it with my own two eyes, to feel it, _live_ it...was another matter entirely. I then slowly get to my feet, knowing we'd be overrun by Orcs if we delayed another- _-gah_! I grab my shoulder, where an arrow has suddenly sprouted, along with a _lot_ of pain.

Frick. Grimacing, I start running, snapping the shaft off and screaming in pain when pure agony courses through me. I grit my teeth and run with everyone else to the exit, however, forcing my legs to run.

It's only when we stop not fifty yards outside Moria that it all sinks in and we all begin to grieve. Even Gimli, who tries to rush back into the mines and fight off the Orcs. Boromir hold him back and I come to stand in front of the Dwarf, tears running down my face and hand over my wound.

"Gimli, stop!" I sob, pushing on his chest with my free hand. "There's nothing we can do. He's gone!" _For now_ , I add internally, clinging to that hope. Gimli stills, eyes locked on the arrowhead in my shoulder.

"L-lass!" He stammers. "Yer injured!" I nod.

"Yeah. I'll live, but it hurts like you wouldn't believe." I reply. Gimli shakes his head.

"You need treatment!" I purse my lips.

"If I yank this arrowhead out, I'd probably bleed out before anything could be done about it. So, for now, the arrowhead has to stay in there." Aragorn, his eyes shining with tears, calls for Legolas.

"Get them up." He orders. I sigh and walk over to Merry and Pippin.

"Guys, I'm sorry, but we can't stay here." I tell them. They instantly hug me and I grimace as it jostles my wound.

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" Boromir protests, sounding and looking ready to cry. Aragorn winces subtly.

"By nightfall, these hills will be swarming with Orcs." He counters, then takes note of me. "I am truly sorry we can't tend to your wound, milady, but we have no choice." I nod, gently removing the boys from myself and standing, hand over my wound again.

"I know."

"We must reach the forest of Lothlorien!" Aragorn calls, sheathing his sword. "Boromir, Rowena, Legolas, Gimli, get them up!" He calls. I step over to Merry and Pippin.

"Come on. We just have to get to the forest, then we can stop, alright?" They nod, sobbing, than sniffling, wiping their noses on their sleeves as they stand up, resolute yet sad looks on their faces. "Good." I praise. "Now, we gotta get going."


	11. Requested AU 1: Dredd, prt 1

**HERE WE ARE! SO SORRY, Hollarious969, FOR LETTING THIS TAKE SO LONG! I WANTED TO BUY THE MOVIE, BUT THEN THAT TOOK TOO LONG SO I ENDED UP JUST RENTING IT FROM THE LIBRARY AND WATCHING IT THAT WAY. ANYWAY, HOPE YOU ENJOY!**

 **NOW, ONTO REVIEWS!**

 **Indigo575: I am SSOO sorry that took so long! I kinda forgot I had it all done, then I proofread it and realized how long it had been since an update and freaked out a little. Sorry!**

 **Me and Not You 1001: IKR! *tears up* Rowena at least tried to save him, but just missed him, which would hurt worse, you know? Ugh, why do I do this to my lovely character?! ;) Anyway, sorry for the feels and I hope you enjoy!**

 **THAT GOES FOR EVERYONE ELSE, AS WELL! =D**

 **GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

 **~THE LUPINE SOJOURNER**

When I say the word 'Judge', what do you think of?

The wigged old guy behind a podium with a scowl and a gavel?

Or perhaps, like me, something more...intense, violent, and...hopeful? Because that's what I think when I say 'Judge'. In my head, I see a proud, strong man in body armor and helmet, badge gleaming in the sun and Lawgiver clutched in his hand as he strides toward me, fond, satisfied smile on his face as he reaches up to take his helmet off.

At least, in my dreams. Yeah, yeah, I know. Laugh it up. I mean, _me_ , meet a Judge?

No _way_. It may just be a dream, but...I couldn't help it. Judges held a high amount of respect and admiration in my mind, even if I'd never meet one in person.

At least...until I heard a _bump_ on the roof of my small apartment. I always considered myself grateful and lucky to have rooftop access, but now I was dreading walking up those stairs, glock in hand and heart pounding.

"Who's there?" I call as I step onto the roof. I pull the hammer back and swallow thickly. I hear a groan and someone stumbling as they try to stand. Cursing- -drunk attackers were more random, harder to fight off- -I inch forward. "You _better_ come out! I'm armed!" I warn as I round the final bend and come face to face with…

A bloodied, beat up male Judge. Instantly, I release the hammer and holster the gun even as I race forward. I needed to get him off the roof now. Especially since someone may or may not still be looking for him. I suck in a breath to prepare myself and heave him up, drawing his arm over my shoulder. The Judge doesn't resist or protest, merely stumbling along beside me in an almost drunken fashion I knew to mean he was only just this side of conscious. I grit my teeth and hurry him inside, stumbling down the stairs and into my apartment before gently letting him down on my couch. Within seconds, his breathing deepened and evened out in unconsciousness. I bite my lip, unsure if that was a good thing or not as I grab a scanner that would pick up any of the more serious injuries, such as internal bleeding.

The only thing is he has four broken ribs, and not major fractures, either. In fact, they were hairline fractures, really. Good. They're easier to fix. I grab the ready-to-use cast tape and groan as I realize I'd have to get all that body armor off.

I bite my lip and frown before spotting a buckle that should unclip one shoulder of the armor. It does and I then unclip the other one before gently tugging the man up and leaning his head against my shoulder while I tossed the armor aside. Something told me I shouldn't take the helmet off, so I don't even reach for it. Beneath the armor is a simple leather shirt that shows where the armor has cracked the ribs. I remove it as quickly but gently as possible and then the man groans.

I swallow, nervous, but he remains unconscious, so I continue, debating whether or not to remove the plain black wife beater that formed the final layer. I eventually do take it off, revealing tough, slightly scarred, but rock-solid abs and pecs that hardly had an unbruised square inch on them. Fighting off a blush, I lean him against my shoulder again- -this time kneeling on my knees to keep the ribs as straight and in line as possible- -and begin wrapping his ribs. That done, I lay him back down and scan him again for any other injuries. There are none, thankfully. It must have been the fall onto my roof that both dented his armor (cracking his ribs) and ended up knocking him out.

But...fall from what? What height could do that to someone? A helicopter? Maybe. I shake my head. I suppose I won't know til he wakes up. Suddenly, the adrenaline drains and I sag into a nearby armchair to wait.

Then, as suddenly as I had woken up, I fell back asleep.

=#=#=#=#=

"Citizen." The simple word has me sitting bolt upright in less than half a second.

"Y-yes?" I reply, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and drool from my cheek.

"Where am I?" He asks. I yawn and stand, stretching.

"One of the residential buildings in the 7th district on 3th street." I explain, coming to check him over. "Your ribs have set nicely." I muse off-handedly.

"What?" He asks, frowning. I chuckle.

"Four of your ribs had hairline fractures. I wrapped cast tape around them, so you'll be fine." I explain. He sits up, but I push him down, the unexpected move giving me an edge.

"Oh, no you don't." I tell him sternly. "You, sir, are staying down on that couch until at least tonight." He snaps his head to me.

" _What_?" He demands indignantly. I set my jaw.

"I'm _serious_." I snap, crossing my arms. "You had a concussion, four fractured ribs, and so many bruises, I thought someone bathed you in blueberry juice. You're staying right there." He tries to sit up, but I shove him back down. "I _mean_ it!" I snap.

"I can't stay. I have to report to- -"

"The Hall of Justice can wait. You need to recover." I snap. He tries to sit up. I put a hand on his chest. "I am _dead_ serious! A few hours of rest will do you a _world_ of good." His lips turn down in a frown, but he concedes and obeys. "Thank you." I say as I sit back down. "What happened, anyway?" His head turns toward me and I elaborate. "How'd you get on the roof?" He frowns.

"I was attempting to wrest control of a helicopter from residual members of the Ma-Ma clan. Suspects did not comply and I was tossed out." He explains in a monotone voice, as if he's done this a lot. My eyebrows rise and I smirk.

"Oh? You make it sound like a common occurrence." I muse, smirking. He sighs.

"I get injured regularly on the job. It's an occupational hazard." He replies.

"I'm sure." I retort. "But you're still staying here til tonight." Then, from within his helmet, comes a female voice announcing some crime being committed close by. I shake my head.

"Don't you even _think_ about it." I warn, glaring at him. He gives me that scowl that tells me he's pissed. "Don't even _give_ me that. You need to stay right where you are or I will sedate you!" I add, crossing my arms.

"It's my responsibility as a Judge to stop crime, no matter what condition I'm in." He retorts. I scowl at him.

"Even Judges need recovery time. Tell that lady you won't be responding to _any_ calls for the next seven hours, at least." I order. He merely stands up so fast, I couldn't react fast enough.

"No, citizen." Is all he says, grabbing his leather jacket. I huff.

"My _name_ is Rowena." I snap testily.

"Rowena, then." He amends, "I cannot remain here. I have to go." I exhale in frustration. To hold him here would probably cause legal issues and may even land me in an Iso-Cube. So, I had no choice but to let him get beat up again.

"...Fine. Go get beat up. You'll be back and I'll be here to patch you up again." I growl through gritted teeth, then see his badge as he pulls his chestplate on.

Dredd.

As in, the now quite famous Judge Dredd that formed half the duo of Judges responsible for the Peach Trees takedown not a month ago.

 _Crap_. I'd essentially kidnapped and snapped at the most famous Judge in the Hall. How on _Earth_ had I missed that badge?!

He nods politely at me and leaves, just like that. I shake my head in slightly amused shock.

Judges were a highly unusual breed, but I guess you'd have to be to dish out the strict law's oftentimes harsh punishments on unfortunate lawbreakers like robots all day.

=#=#=#=#=

It took only til the next night for him to be back, knocking on my window letting out onto the fire escape that always looked ready to fall. I tell myself it's only concern he'd break the fire escape and plummet to the concrete below that makes me open the window.

But I'm lying; truth is, I'd been wondering if he'd ever want to come back, and daring to hope that maybe he would. So I crack a smirk, open the window, and help him in.

"Told you you'd be back." I tease. He grunts.

"You were nearer than any hospital in the vicinity." He replies smoothly, but with a worrying undercurrent of pain. I roll my eyes and sit him on the couch, unbuckling the armor.

"Uh-huh." I mumble, heaving the armor off and peeling back the jacket. "Alright. Well, you've managed to not only re-break the ribs- -much worse this time, mind you- -but also get yourself a nasty stab wound." I grumble. "Great." I then reach for the cauterizing cream. "This'll hurt. Just so you- -"

"I am aware." He grumbles. I nod.

"Alright. Here goes." And I squeeze a pea-sized glob of cream into the wound. Dredd hisses softly, tensing, but doesn't strike out at me or react in any other way. I then grab a stapler and criss-cross staples over the wounds. That done, I wrap it in gauze and lean back to admire my handiwork. Nodding in satisfaction, I notice an odd lump in Dredd's shoulder. I sigh. Dislocated, if not broken "And now for that shoulder." I automatically just reach over and pop it back in, forgetting all about warning him. Again, he hisses, but doesn't do anything else. "You know, I think you're the easiest patient to treat." I muse, checking him over for other injuries. "Recovery, you're a pain in my butt, but treatment's a snap with you."

"I do not need time to- -" He cuts himself off with a hiss as he tries to sit up. I gently push him back down, groaning.

"Here we go again. Look, if you do not let yourself recover properly, you're gonna die. You'll reopen that wound and bleed out." I point out severely, glaring at him. He smirks.

"I wouldn't, but I appreciate the concern, Rowena Garner." I pale a little.

"...I never told you my last name." He smirks.

"I needed to know your address, in case I needed...assistance again."

"That's slightly creepy." I mumble, crossing my arms, then sighing with a smirk. _And just what I was hoping for._ "I'm gonna give you morphine and sedative. That'll give you a good few hours of rest you really need to heal." I said firmly. Dredd's infamous frown makes a reappearance. "Don't even give me that frown. You need to take care of yourself, Dredd." I retort, aggravated beyond belief with my unofficial patient as I sat down in the armchair I'd used last time he came over to get treated. Dredd's slightly annoyed frown became something more curious, more intrigued...something contemplative. Finally, he speaks.

"Joseph." I tilt my head.

"Joseph? What's that supposed to mean?" He smirks.

"My first name." I nod.

"Nice to meet you, Joseph." The smirk becomes a smile and I discover it's contagious...and quite cute on him. "You know, a smile looks good on you. You should try it on more often." I mumble off-handedly, blushing when my words catch up with my brain and Joseph's smile falters in confusion. "I mean- -uh…" He waves my stuttering to a halt and the smile is back full force.

"It's alright, Rowena." He replies. Then, against all odds, he reaches up to unclip his helmet.

"Y-you don't have to…" I mutter half-heartedly, blushing scarlet for some reason. Perhaps simply because I could tell this was a big deal to him. And as such, it meant probably more than I realize that he was revealing himself like this.

Then he spoke. Just three words, but they were enough to bring me to my metaphorical knees.

"I want to." I don't know why, but those words rang over and over in my head. I couldn't get enough of it. "You've been so...different from the other doctors, warm and compassionate, but also intriguing and playful." He said and the chin strap came undone. The helmet was gripped in his strong hands and it slid off to reveal chocolate brown eyes and a defined, if not slightly sweaty, forehead. Those eyes were warm and playful, coupled with the smile I'd already grown (probably) overfond of.

Dear _God_ , I'm _screwed_.

=#=#=#=#=

No really, I _am_ screwed!

It happened this morning. The one after Dredd had taken off his helmet. I'd been going to the store, in fact on my way home, when I was stopped by two Judges.

"Can I help you two?" I ask politely. They nod.

"Are you affiliated with Judge Dredd?" I hide my growing worry with a shiver in the autumn air, pulling my coat tighter about myself, the groceries clinking together noisily. There was something off about this whole scenario, but I can't tell exactly what...

"I know him as well as anyone in Mega-City 1." I lie. "Why?"

"He's gone MIA." One reports. "We are assigned to his retrieval." I nod.

"Okay. Well, I'm sorry, gentlemen, but I don't know where he is." They frown in a manner not unlike Dredd's.

"We tracked his last known location to this street." They tell me.

"If I see him, I'll let you know." I tell them and turn to leave.

"His last location happens to be your apartment, citizen." One growls, suddenly directly behind me. "Which means you're now accused of disrupting a Judge's investigation. That's three months in an Iso-Cube, _if_ the courts are lenient. Which they won't be." I pale, tensing. The bags slip from my fingers before I clench my fingers into fists. This was _so_ going to end badly. But I had to try.

"Listen, I think you've- -" The slap takes my by surprise and I go reeling back a few steps. By the time I might have reacted, the sedative needle was already in my neck.

My uncle would have my head if he were here.


	12. Two Whiskeys on the Rocks 3 (Star Trek)

"McCoy- -uh...both of you- -U.S.S Enterprise." The commander assigning us to our ships orders, frowning to make sure he'd read that right before continuing down the list. I grin at Bones. He smirks back. I take his hand and chuckle excitedly. This is amazing! I can only hope this is over quickly, so Bones and I can get to our honeymoon.

"He didn't read my name." Kirk mumbles. I roll my eyes.

"Jim, you _just_ got out of a hearing to discuss you cheating on the Kobayashi Maru and you're wondering why you aren't picked for the mission?" I mumble, arms crossed, even as Kirk strides over to the commander, Bones and I right behind him.

"Commander, sir, you didn't call my name." He asks, not replying to me. I roll my eyes again. "Kirk, James T?" He presses. The commander taps a few keys and turns to him, and I swear there's a smirk on his face.

"Kirk, you're on Academic Suspension, which means you're grounded until the Academy Board rules otherwise." I sigh. That _sucks_.

"We'll be back before you know it." I mumble, not knowing what else to say.

"Yeah, and the Board'll rule in your favor...most likely." Bones adds then takes my hand, sighing. "Look, Jim, we gotta go." I clap my friend's shoulder. I can tell the happy, nonchalant set to his shoulders was absolutely fake and that jealousy and hurt were center-stage. Hurt that he was left behind (and probably left over from Spock's biting remarks about the taboo of Kirk's past) and jealousy at us going and him staying (not that I blame him).

"Yeah, yeah. You go, be safe." He says, shaking Bones' hand and hugging me. "Have fun, too, you guys. Screw each other for me, okay?" I grimace.

"You're almost 25, Kirk. That's _so_ gross. See yah soon." I smirk nonetheless and side-hug Leonard as we turn and walk away, my heart sinking further with each step we took away from our friend. It takes all of ten steps for us to halt, Leonard to remove himself from my embrace, sigh, roll his eyes and turn around.

"Dammit!" He groans under his breath. I chuckle.

"That didn't take long." I muse. He doesn't reply, hooking his hand around Jim's arm.

"Come with me." He whispers, already leading Jim away. Jim looks pleasantly surprised, but willing to roll with it.

"Bones, where are we going?" Jim asks. I come to Jim's other side and grab his other arm.

"Shh! Just follow our lead!" I hiss.

"Kinda hard not to when your- -Ow!" Jim barks when Bones pinches his shoulder hard.

"Shh!" We enter the side medical supply closet and close the door.

"What are you doing?!" Jim presses.

"I'm doing you a favor. Couldn't just leave you there, looking all pathetic. Take a seat." Bones replies, grabbing a- -oh, wow, he's _ticked_ at Jim! Melvaran Mud Flea vaccine? Ouch. "I'm giving you a vaccine against viral infection from Melvaran Mud Fleas." He explains, injecting it without another word.

" _Ow_! What _for_?" Jim asks, grimacing when the hypospray does it's work.

"To give you the symptoms." Jim continues to grimace.

"What are you talking about?" JIm snaps, rolling his neck. I swear Leonard has a smug look on his face as he puts the hypospray and the antidotes in a travel pack he slings over his shoulder.

"You're going to start losing vision in your left eye." Jim starts to reel a little on the cot, blinking.

"Yeah, I already have."

"Oh, and you're gonna get a really bad headache and a flop sweat." Jim grimaces (probably due to the sudden migraine) as we pull him up, supporting him with our shoulders.

"You're welcome." I chirp." Jim groans.

"You call this a favor?" He grumbles.

"Yeah. You owe me one." Leonard replies as we drag him out.

=#=#=#=#=

"Kirk, James T." The commander at the door of the shuttle reads. "He is not cleared for duty aboard the Enterprise."

"Medical Code states that the treatment and transport of a patient is to be determined at the discretion of the attending physician, which is me, with Doctor McCoy here assisting me." The man frowns. "So we're taking Mr. Kirk aboard, or would you like to explain to Captain Pike why the Enterprise warped into a crisis without two of its senior medical officers?" The man deflates as Kirk starts panting.

"As you were." He says. My husband merely scoffs.

"As _you_ were." He snaps. We then stumble onto the _Gillian_ , the shuttle taking us to the _Enterprise_. I sit just behind Leonard, where I could watch both my boys and enjoy the view all at once. Kirk is indeed sweating, panting and generally looking very miserable.

"I might throw up on you. Either of you." He growls. I laugh at the flip of positions from when we first met Jim.

"It's not even a five minute flight, Jim. You're fine."

"Jim, Winnie, look at this." Bones interjects. "Jim, look!" He presses.

"What?" Jim snaps as we lean over and I gasp. "Whoa…"

"Oh, my fricking- -that's _amazing_!" I squeak excitedly. How else could one describe the docking station just up ahead?

"Wow…" Kirk breathes, still looking quite sick, but also as awestruck as we were. The shuttle then makes a series of maneuvers to dock with the _Enterprise_ and we disembark, Kirk looking worse and worse by the second, so Leonard and I drag him through the crowds toward medbay.

"We need to get you changed." McCoy tells Jim.

"And give you the antidote." I add.

"I don't feel right." Jim complains. "I feel like I'm leaking." I nod.

"That's the flop sweat. We'll take care of that." It's then that I notice Spock in the distance. Bones does, too.

" _Hell_!" He curses. "It's that pointy-eared bastard." He explains, taking the long way around the very large piece of equipment (should know what it's called, but I don't. Turbolift, maybe?) in the center of the entrance area. Then we pause, parking our best friend behind a terminal as I grab an undershirt and uniform pants. Jim puts them on without question and we continue. By the time we get into the turbolift, I hear Pike's voice on the intercom, telling all decks to prepare for our departure. The turbolift then stops and we get off.

"Where are we?" Jim asks.

"Medbay." I reply. "And it is a _beauty_!" I chirp, gazing around at all the advanced medicinal equipment and nearly drooling.

"This isn't worth it." JIm moans as we drag him toward a cot.

"You'll thank us later. Just hang on." I reply, rolling my eyes.

"Besides," Leo continues, "a little suffering is good for the soul." Leo then sees a nurse pass by and smiles.

"Hi. How are yah?" He greets.

"No flirting til we've got you recovered." I order sternly.

"Now come here." Leo barks, sitting our friend on a cot.

"My mouth is itchy." Jim complains. "Is that normal?" I nod.

"Yep."

"Those symptoms won't last long." Bones promises. "We're gonna give you a mild sedative." He explains. Jim grimaces.

"I wish I didn't know you two." He groans.

"Then you'd still be stuck on Earth rather than here on the Enterprise. Now hold still." I retort as Leo grabs the sedative.

"Exactly. Don't be such an infant." Leo admonishes, sticking Jim with the sedative. Jim cries out in pain for a second.

"How long is it supposed to…" His eyes then roll up and he collapses. I scoff.

"Unbelieveable." Leonard mumbles. I chuckle.

"Yep. Now that that's out of the way, let's get dressed for duty."

=#=#=#=#=

Once we're dressed, checked in and our inter-flight tasks completed, about half an hour or more later, I was handed a data PADD to give to Captain Pike.

"Dr. McCoy, please keep an eye on our patient. I need to give the Captain this PADD." I call. Leonard waves me on as he completes his own tasks. I try not to skip up to the turbolift in elation that I was on the _Enterprise_ , the _best_ ship in the fleet! And with my _husband_ , at that! I get my grin back to professional levels as the lift stops. I exit and present the PADD to my father-in-law.

"Captain. Good to see you."

"Likewise, Winnie." He greets. "I mean, Doctor McCoy." He corrects, smiling. I grin back.

"Here's the report from Medbay. All is well and we're ready for new patients if necessary."

"Thank you. Please report back to Medbay and await further instructions." I nod.

"Yessir." I reply and take the lift back to Medbay. Jim's still out cold, but at least the sweat's stopped. "Hey there." I greet Bones, side-hugging him. He grins, but ends the hug.

"You know no one here knows we're married, right?" I roll my eyes.

"They'll figure it out. My new last name is kind of a dead giveaway...unless you think I could pass as your sister." He scoffs. My auburn hair and neon green eyes were a _dead_ giveaway that I was not related to Leonard at all.

"Good point." From there, it's pretty boring, with no patients to treat and all tasks completed. "Hey, wanna grab a bite?" I ask nonchalantly nearly twenty minutes of boredom later. "We got plenty of time before we arrive at Vulcan." Bones nods.

"I'll grab us some grub if you watch the dead man on the cot." He teases. I nod, grinning.

"Will do! Thanks, Doctor." I reply and McCoy leaves. I sigh happily and go to review some emergency procedures and familiarizing myself with the ship's layout. Within ten minutes, Bones was back with a plate of shrimp and grits for him and chicken tenders and wrinkle-cut fries for me. He knew, after a few years' practice, just what I really liked and what I'd rather not eat.

"Thanks, B- -doctor." I thank him and dig in, moaning in pleasure at the taste of the still warm food. "Dang, this is good." I mumble, mouth full. He nods, returning a smile.

"Dear God." A nurse teases from nearby. "The infamous Dr. McCoy, smiling?" I roll my eyes.

"Yeah, he can smile." Leo scowls.

"Only for certain people." He adds. The nurse sniffs and walks away. I sigh.

"That didn't take long." I muse sourly, taking another bite of chicken. We quickly wrapped up the meal and returned the utensils and platters to the mess hall and returned to check on Jim, finding him still out. Scoffing at the powerlessness Jim had against sedatives (and storing that mental note away for future reference and amusement), we go about our duties and tune out a few murmurs here and there.

Then, the ship-wide broadcast channel opens and a young russian boy appears on the vidscreens all around medbay.

" _May I have your attention, please?_ " He begins politely. " _At 2200 hours, telemetry detected an anomaly in the Neutral Zone; what appeared to be a lightning storm in space._ " I frown.

"Huh?" Something about that rang through my head like warning bells, familiar and chilling. But I couldn't remember what _exactly_ was so unsettling. Leo frowns.

"Lightning storm? In space?" Leo asks, coming automatically to stand beside me with his arm around my hips. I shrug.

"Dunno."

" _Soon after, Starfleet received a distress call from the Wulcan High Command that their planet was experiencing seismic actiwity._ " The kid's russian accent, while adorable, only made it that much harder to process what he was saying.

"Now I'm _really_ confused." I groan.

" _Our mission is to assess the condition of Wulcan and to assist in ewacuations if necessary. We should be arriving at Wulcan within three minutes. Sank you for your time._ " I shake my head.

"What'd you- -" Before I can finish, Jim suddenly sits bolt upright, panting heavily.

"Lightning storm!" He cries, fear and horror in his bright blue eyes. Bones glances over.

"Jim, you're awake." He muses. "How d'you feel?" I am more focused, however, on the sheer panic-stricken look on Jim's face as he groans under the headache and other symptoms. "Good _God_ , man." Bones cries, looking at the- -

"Whoa!" I squeak. "I don't- -that's not good!" Jim then frowns.

"What?"

"Your hands!" I retort. The squeak of terror JIm gives off makes this whole escapade worth it as Jim brings his hands up in plain view.

"What the _hell_ is this?!" He demands. Bones begins running over to the cabinet of medicine and draws out the antidote.

"A reaction to the vaccine! _Dammit_!" He growls, more at himself than Jim. "Nurse Chapel, I need 50 CCs of Cortisol."

"Yessir." She replies, handing him the hypospray. I then turn to see Jim pulling up the inter-ship broadcast that Russian kid sent out, fingers almost too fat for the screen.

"Jim, sit _down_!" I bark. He shakes his head.

"No!" I grab his arm, but he resists.

"Hold still! We need to- -hey!" I protest as Jim pulls away from me to grab Bones' face.

"We need to stop the ship." He says.

"What?!" I snap. "Why?!"

"No time, we gotta go!" Jim cries as he takes off running.

"Ah, frick!" I curse. "Jim, we _gotta_ keep your heart rate low! Stop running!" I order, but Jim ignores me.

"Jim, she's not kidding! We _need_ to keep your heart rate down!" Bones adds. Finally, our runaway patient stops at a computer station.

"Computer, locate crewmember Uhura!" He orders.

"You know, I haven't seen a reaction this bad since medical school." Bones muses worriedly.

"I kn- -Jim, stop running!" I scream as Jim takes off yet again.

"We're flying into a trap!" He calls back.

"What?!" I snap. How in the _hell_ could that boy know just from that broadcast?! He just keeps running, however, so I have no choice but to chase after him.

"Dammit, Jim, _stay still_!" Bones orders angrily, jabbing Jim with the hypospray.

" _Agh_!" Jim cries. "Stoppit!" He orders.

"It's to stop the reaction." I explain. "Now, stop running- _-Jim_!" He runs about twenty feet and stops, tapping a pretty African-American woman's shoulder, presumably this Uhura person he had the computer locate.

"Uhura!" He calls to get her attention. "Uhura- -

"Kirk, what are you doing here?" She asks as she stands up.

"The transmission from the Klingon prison planet." Jim says, avoiding her question. "What exactly- -"

"Oh, my God!" She squeaks. "What's wrong with your hands?!"

"Reaction." I explain as Leonard comes up behind Jim, scanning him to see which antidote to give him.

"It's- -look, who is responsible for the Klingon attack?" Jim presses. Uhura frowns.

"What?"

"And wath teh ship Womulan?" Jim asks, voice slurry and not clear all of a sudden.

"Frick!" I curse, knowing what it means.

"Was the ship _what_?" Uhura asks.

"Whath happening to my mouth?" Jim asks. Bones looks up from the results of the scan.

"You've got numb tongue?" He asks rhetorically.

"Numb tongue?" Jim parrots. Bones nods.

"I can fix that." He then sets the med kit down to get the injection ready.

"Was the ship what?" Uhura asks again.

"Womulan." Jim repeats.

"What?" Uhura asks, grimacing in annoyance. "I…"

"Womulan!" Jim repeats again urgently.

"Romulan?" She finally guesses. Jim nods."Yes?"

"Yeth!" Jim repeats.

"Yes!" Uhura assures him, just as Bones injects the antidote into him.

"Agh! Dammit!" He then takes off again.

"Kirk, you need to stop!" I protest on deaf ears as we (yet again) take off after him.

"What's going on?" Uhura asks.

"JIm thinks we're flying into a trap or something- -I don't know; I don't think he's thinking straight." I briefly explain as we run after Kirk.

"Jim, come back!" Bones calls.

"Kirk!" Uhura calls, just as Jim enters the bridge. No, _no_ , _**no**_! So much for smuggling him aboard. Couldn't even last two hours without him drawing attention to himself.

As Bones said earlier…'unbelieveable'.


	13. Requested AU 1: Dredd, prt 2

**HAHA, COMPLETELY FORGOT TO PUT AN AUTHOR'S NOTE IN THE BEGINNING OF THE LAST CHAPTER! WHOOPS! XD ANYWAY, HOPE YOU LIKE THIS SLIGHTLY LONGER CHAPTER, GUYS!**

 **ANYWAY, ONTO REVIEWS!**

 **Me and Not You 1001 (on your review of Chapter 11): Mwahaha...you'll have to wait and see. To give out that information would be spoiling, and I don't want to do that. But just hang on; this is the next part of the Dredd AU.**

 **(on you review of Chapter 12): I** _ **promise**_ **I'm not confusing you on purpose, but I am glad you got a giggle out of it. So sorry again and maybe try the library in your area? I dunno if you got one, but it's worth a shot, right? Anyway, in Dredd, it's revealed (spoilers for the movie, by the way) that there are dirty Judges and those are the ones that took Rowena.**

 **IF** _ **ANYONE**_ **HAS IDEAS ON AUS AND EVEN JUST SCENES YOU WANT ME TO DO, I'M** _ **REALLY**_ **OPEN TO SUGGESTIONS!**

 **GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

 **~THE LUPINE SOJOURNER**

 _If you find yourself waking up and you don't know where you are, Winnie, do_ _ **not**_ _open your eyes right away. Observe as much as you can without sight before slowly cracking your eyes open. And even then, if you start to think you see someone in front of you, slip them back closed slowly. You do_ _ **not**_ _want them finding out that you're awake, cus that's when they'll start whatever they've got planned for you._

Uncle Lachlan's voice was ringing in my head, barely audible over the ringing in my ears. He'd been crazy paranoid about teaching me self-defense from a young age. As Uncle Lachlan was a retired Judge, I never questioned it or protested. I just grit my teeth and got through it.

I just barely opened my eyes and noted instantly that I was in a higher level of a high rise, due to the lack of view and breeze through the broken windows. I was tied at the wrists and elbows and lying on a cement flooring. I closed my eyes again as I hear a door behind me open, forcing my breathing to sound unconscious (something Uncle Lach had taught me when I was seven) as the two men came circling around me. One scoffs.

"She ain't up yet?"

"Nah, that b***h ain't gon wake up fer a while yet." The other replies, also scoffing. "Wesley and Argot got 'er with the concentrated stuff." I can feel the other guy frown more than see it.

"What'd we even want 'er fer?"

"Dunno, but I hear it's to send some message to that Judge we was havin' such prob'ems with 'fore now. You know, in Peach Trees." I swallow and continue my breathing, but inwardly I'm panicking. I'm bait, and they can do whatever they want with me while they have me. But, for now, they are content to simply sit here and guard me, so I am content to keep pretending I'm unconscious. For about half a minute, when one of the men gets bored and kicks my diaphragm. It was so unexpectedly startling and painful, I flinch, but manage to act as though I were just waking up. I was grabbed and forced to stand, yanked up to stand centimeters from my captor's face.

"What the- -"

"Hey, bi**ch!" The banger calls, smirking in a leering manner at me. "Finally woke the princess, eh?" I grimace at both the man's breath and the throbbing in my temples as a headache began and increased.

" _You_ try being sedated, pal. See how long _you're_ out for!" I growl before I can think it through. The guy slaps me hard enough to make my lips bleed and form a bruise, most likely. With my arms tied, I can't do anything but fall, cracking my shoulder and temple against the unforgiving cement floor. He then drags me up by my hair.

"Jes' you wait, darlin'." He growls, spittle flying all over my face. "The boss'll wanna see yah. Pronto." And with that, they began to push me toward the door before I started walking on my own. Once through, there is a short hall of doors before an elevator we enter. It's dense, awkward silence on the ride down, then I am pushed toward an office of sorts, or a command center, with one of the Judges- -I automatically read the Badge; Argot- -that kidnapped me leaning against the desk nonchalantly, halting his chatting with a few other people in the room to stare at me. I swallow, but let him begin this exchange.

"Well, well, well." He muses. I refrain from commenting and let him do the talking as he grabs my chin painfully, dragging me closer. "You know, now you're here, I just can't see it." He says casually, forcing me closer and up to nearly my tip-toes.

"Can't see _what_?" I snap before I can stop myself. The man smirks, increasing his grip.

"Why Dredd likes yah so damn much." I scoff as he thrusts me away.

" _That's_ why you took me?! Geez, you don't know him. He's a _robot_! A fricking android if I ever saw one!" I snap, even though deep down, I knew it wasn't true. _Play it tough, Winnie. That's the key. Show 'em you ain't terrified of 'em, even if yer about to crap yourself_. "He doesn't like me at _all_!" I add for good measure, biting back the guilt this brings up. The man laughs, the sound cold and cruel.

" _You_ don't know Dredd, then!" The man snaps in sudden rage. "He's a _Judge_! Cold judgement on lawbreakers is the _job_! We're not supposed to get attached to anyone, let alone form bonds and... _relationships_ with them!" I can't help a step back. I hate to admit it, even just in my head, but this guy was intimidating…and had a point.

"So?" I spit, trying to keep my tough facade up as long as I could.

"So when we actually _come back_ and _want_ to see you, it _means_ something! What did he tell you, huh? 'You were closer than the other hospitals'? That's BS and you know it." I swallow. "Trust me; this'll hurt 'im." I step forward, suddenly bold.

"What'd he ever _do_ to you?!"

"He got in my way, killed friends of mine when he found out the truth about Mega City 1. This city is a meat grinder of crime and villainy; people in one end, meat out the other. All Judges do is turn the handle, so why even bother?" I frown.

"They do a _lot_ for this city!" I protest. " _He_ does a lot!"

"He's _ruthless_ , Rowena, even among the other Judges!" I gulp in shock at the fact that he knew my name, and that he was quite suddenly centimeters from my face. "Utterly _ruthless_! He murdered his fellow Judge by slamming his Lawgiver's handle on his throat! Just for being smart enough to accept the truth! You listen to that and tell me he ain't gone overboard!"

"I won't hesitate to use those same measures on you and all other lawbreakers." Comes the voice of my rescuer, Joseph Dredd. I turn to see him in the doorway, no helmet and eyes blazing in cold, unbridled fury. It honestly scares me a little, especially since he doesn't have his armor on. It's just the leather jacket and wife beater between him and a bullet. "Are you alright, Rowena?" He asks, eyes never leaving my captors, flicking from one to the other dangerously. I nod.

"Ye-yeah. I'm good." I reply. He nods, eyes never losing that dangerous, all-consuming fire. Especially as he takes in my torn lip, bonds, and bruises, and probably the thousand thoughts and emotions going through my head right now. His jaw sets furiously, his being darkening frightfully.

"Good." He then fires a mere four times and all of the captors are dead except Argot.

"I see your injuries haven't slowed you down at all, Dredd." He remarks casually, smirking, still incredibly close to me. Joseph's eyes flash and his roar is truly terrifying and before I know it, they are fist-fighting!

"Stop! Dredd, _stop_! You'll- -Agh!" They slam into the glass desk in the room, knocking me down along with them, making it tip and shatter. I instantly stand up, touching as little of the ground as possible. I then grab a fairly large piece of glass carefully, slicing through my bonds before stabbing it into the bad Judge's jugular. "You should know by now, Judge; the Law _always_ wins." I growl as the man bleeds out, staring at me incredulously as he collapsed. Instantly, I release the glass with a sharp hiss. I had _nasty_ gashes where the edges had made contact with my skin. " _Crap_!" I groan, nearly a whimper, hand shaking in pain. I take deep breaths and look around for some kind of faucet or sink to use to wash my gashes and hopefully rinse out any glass still in there. Joseph gently guides me with hands on my elbows to a door off to the side, revealing a half-bath with a clean-looking sink. I have to force myself to keep the hand under the water, hissing aloud in pain. " _Frick_ , this _really_ hurts!" I groan, squeezing my eyes shut. Joseph then turns the water off and gently dries my hand with the towel nearby.

"You are lucky I always have a first aid kit on me." He muses, with the tiniest of smirks. I smirk back.

"My hero." He then applies disinfectant as well as cauterizing cream before he starts tenderly wrapping my hand, frowning in some unreadable emotion. Guilt? Remorse? Self-loathing?

"If I was, I'd have been there to stop the kidnapping." I frown.

"Joseph." I whisper. It was the first time I'd really addressed him by his first name since he told me. It had the desired effect; he froze, eyes snapping up to look at mine, searching them. "I don't blame you." I tell him genuinely. " _I_ gave you the sedative. You were asleep. You _needed_ that sleep."

"I shouldn't have taken the sedative." He retorts, intent on blaming himself, eyes now anywhere but mine.

"I'd have given to you, anyway." That seems to electrify the room, the tension and anticipation rising until we started leaning in. Instead of a kiss, we lean our foreheads together. It was somehow more electrifying than what I imagine a kiss to feel like, communicating more than a kiss ever could. "And you're gonna come back to my apartment with me and get more rest. Got that?" Joseph merely chuckles. He draws a little away, and it takes all I have not to pull him back.

"If that's what you want." I lick my lips, daring to look him in eye when I reply.

"I do."

=#=#=#=#=

"Wait, wait, wait…" I stammer in disbelief. "You mean to tell me...you've _never_ had ice cream?!" I ask, laughing. Joseph stood tall, unfazed by my amusement.

"No time. I'm always either on the clock, asleep, or eating a meal." I shake my head, chuckling.

"Well, I just so happen to have heaven incarnate in my freezer right now. Death by Chocolate." I reply easily, smirking playfully. He returned the smirk, leaning on my counter opposite me and looking _very_ kissable.

"That's Murder of a Judge." He remarks wryly. "Sentence; death." Oh, sweet Lord of All Things Holy, that devilish smirk of his is _not_ helping!

"Death by Chocolate." I retort, laughing to distract myself as I dig it out of my freezer. I then grab two mugs and a scoop as well as two spoons and serve the chocolaty heaven. Just as I am taking the fifth bite of ice cream, however, there's a series of knocks that could only be Uncle Lachlan. I groan aloud and motion Joseph to sit back down, as he'd risen at the noise, hand on the handle of his Lawgiver. "It's just my Uncle. Hang on a sec. Be right back." I tell him and open the door.

"Winnie!" My uncle cries and draws me into a nearly bone-crushing hug, spinning me around before plopping me down and looking me over intently. I laugh as he exhales in relief. "You're okay." I nod.

"Of course, Uncle Lach. Just a few minor bruises and a split lip." I then put a hand on his shoulder. "How'd you know I went missing?" He sighs.

"I came by to see if you were free for lunch. You didn't open the door and you weren't in the apartment. I saw a ma- -" I stop him right there.

"That's a Judge that needed treatment faster than he could get to a hospital." I interject before he gets any ideas. "I'd given him sedative and went to get some groceries when I was taken." The Judge Garter side of my uncle, so rarely used but always present, hardens his face.

"Who took you? Any idea?" He asks. I shake my head.

"Not really any names, but I know they were crooked Judges, bent on exacting revenge on the Judge I'd treated for his interference at Peach Trees a month ago." As I thought, Uncle Lachlan's eyes lit up in realization a second before he tore into the dining/living room area. He caught sight of Joseph and blinked several times, reconciling the passed out man on the couch with his identity and reputation. "Why don't you sit down, Uncle Lach?" I suggest, steering him that way and seating him before he could protest.

"You're Dredd, ain't yah?" He breaths. Joseph nods crisply.

"Yes, sir." He replies curtly. I look between the two and smirk.

"Jo, meet my Uncle and father-figure of nearly two decades, Lachlan Garner." Joseph nods and so does Uncle Lach, and the men shake hands.

"Good to meet you, sir." Jo intones genuinely, then turns to me. "You never mentioned your uncle." I shrug.

"Never came up the two times you've shown up bloody and bruised in my apartment." Uncle Lachlan sighs good-naturedly.

"Trust you to take in strays, Winnie, even against my lectures." I roll my eyes.

"Oh, that's just you being paranoid. Besides, I could have easily forced sedative into his bloodstream if need be. You know that."

"I do. I just- -"

"Want me to be safe. I know." Uncle Lach then gets a worn-out, tired visage and I chuckle.

"Take the guest room for the night, Uncle. We'll still be here in the morning." I coax.

"No. I'll…" I deadpan, crossing my arms.

"Go." That's all he needed as he trudged off with a pat on my shoulder and a soft 'goodnight, baby girl'. "Goodnight, Uncle." I reply, smiling. The smile then drops at the thought of telling Jo about my parents and Uncle Lachlan. It wasn't a pleasant tale. "...Judged gang members." I mumble, eyes down on the counter and hands braced against it, as well. I couldn't look Joseph in the eyes. "I was eight when Dad responded to the wrong drugs bust." I choke out.

"...And your mother?" He asks in genuine curiosity. I grimace.

"She died when I was one, trying to bring my little sibling into the world. We never knew what gender it was." I take a shuddering breath to steady myself and press on. "From eight years old on, it's been Uncle Lachlan and I against Mega City 1, constantly training to prevent anything happening to either of us. He's a paranoiac with sickle cell anemia." Jo's arms are suddenly around me and I don't fight the hug. "I've been taking care of him as much as he's been taking care of me." He then gently takes my chin in his hand, making me look at him.

"That takes a lot of strength and courage, Rowena." I give off a bitter, humorless chuckle.

"And then I moved out, leaving him alone with his demons." This seems to snap something in my head and I just can't stop the tears. Everything was crashing down on me and I just cry and cry and all Joseph can do is hold me, but it helps. When I finally stop, I realize I'm somehow in my bed with no idea how I even got into my bedroom. I am then aware of Joseph with his hand on my shoulder. He squeezes it gently and prepares to leave. I grab his forearm. "St-stay?" I ask, hating how weak I sounded at the moment, but unable to help it. Joseph merely nods and lays down, his chest against my back and it gives me the relaxation I need to finally let exhaustion overtake me and fall asleep.

=#=#=#=#=

In the morning, I wake to find Joseph still right where he was last night and the memories make me sigh in...not regret, but...guilt. Guilt that I made Joseph take care of me when I should have been perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Despite my Uncle's best efforts, I was in _no_ way prepared for what I'd just lived through. Joseph, evidently an easy man to rouse, yawns as he wakes up, his eyes turning to me, warm and sincere as the silence hangs between us, flimsy and yet keeping us apart by no more than three inches. There's suddenly no room for Jesus anymore as I slowly lean up and in and his lips finally meet mine. We stand there for a moment, neither wanting to end the kiss, but knowing we must eventually. When we do break apart, we lean our foreheads together and it feels just as intimate and personal as the kiss. "Sorry." I breath. "I just...couldn't _not_ kiss you any longer." Joseph merely smiles, a warm throaty chuckle emanating from his throat.

"'Any longer'?" He asks. I flush.

"Y-yeah. I...I just...when you decided I was worth taking off the helmet for, claiming that it was what you wanted, it just- -something clicked." I stammer, tucking hair behind my ear. "I knew then that I was sunk in terms of resisting you."

"And I knew I was more than just intrigued when you refused to let me go without treatment. All other doctors simply let me walk out. They didn't care enough to insist. You did."

" _Do_." I insist, smirking. "And I don't plan on stopping anytime soon." He grins and he kisses me again, a little harder, but with just enough restraint that it didn't go anywhere...more intimate.

So, in the end, my dream came true; I met a Judge. Fell for him, too.


	14. My Asgardian Stalker (Marvel AU prt 1)

**SO, I KNOW IT ISN'T OUT YET, BUT I** _ **REALLY**_ **WANTED TO AT LEAST BEGIN THIS JOURNEY, SO HERE WE GO! YES, THIS IS SET IN** _ **THOR: RAGNAROK**_ **, AND YES, I KNOW I'M** _ **SERIOUSLY**_ **JUMPING THE GUN HERE, BUT I JUST CAN'T HELP IT! XD**

 **...I'M PROBABLY ASSUMING _WWWAAYYY_ TOO MUCH ABOUT KARL URBAN'S CHARACTER, SKURGE, AND THE MOVIE ITSELF, BUT LET'S JUST GET INTO IT, SHALL WE? IF I **_**DO**_ **SCREW IT ALL UP, I'LL JUST GO BACK AND CHANGE IT ONCE I'VE SEEN THE MOVIE.** **DEAL?**

 **ANYWAY, AS ALWAYS, HOPE YOU ENJOY AND ONTO REVIEWS REAL QUICK BEFORE THE STORY.**

 **GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

 **~THE LUPINE SOJOURNER**

I was tumbling down toward the shore, bouncing off rocks as I went, in a thunderstorm. Blearily, I half-expected lightning (though Scotland was not known for a lot of lightning), but what I got felt more like a...vacuum, sucking me up like an alien abduction scene or something.

Needless to say, I was pretty freaked out, then all of a sudden, I was on some kinda ground. _Solid_ ground.

Groaning and rubbing at my bruises, I sit up, aware that I was still dripping wet.

"What the frick was _that_?!" I grumble to myself.

"The Bifrost of Asgard." Comes a voice behind me. A _deep_ man's voice, at that. I squeak, stumble to a standing position, and whirl to find, sure enough, a man standing there. A _big_ man, with a shaved head and simple triangular tattoos over the skin. I back up nervously when I noticed the _huge_ machine guns in holsters on his shoulders.

"The what of the what?" I ask, my back hitting the wall. Oddly enough, it was curved and almost like being inside a ball. The man continues walking slowly to me and I unconsciously shiver.

"I promise, I don't mean you harm. Please, do not be alarmed." I swallow, beginning to inch away from the guy, who holds his hands up placatingly. "The Bifrost acted on my desire to save you. I am sorry." I frown, halting.

"Saved me...from the lightning?" I ask. He nods.

"Yes." Unconsciously, I take a step away from the wall.

"How'd you know I needed saving?" He sighs.

"Well, there's an Infinity Stone, the Soul Stone." I raise a brow. None of this made _any_ sense.

"And?"

"It's an incredibly powerful artifact. It allows the wielder to view anyone they wish." I blanch.

"You've been _spying_ on me?!" I snap, suddenly livid. "That is _so_ creepy!" He has his hands on his hips in a half-amused, half-exasperated gesture, taking a single step back.

"I have never seen you…"

"Naked?" I finish waspishly. He nods. "Regardless, it's _creepy_!" He sighs.

"As Guardian of the Bifrost, the responsibility falls to me to protect this place." He explains, gesturing around the area and I notice we appear to be in a ball-shaped building-pavilion thing with a conical attachment aimed into the nothingness of space. "As the Guardian, I must survey all nine worlds and ensure no threat approaches Asgard. You just so happen to be the Midgardian that continuously attracts my attention." I frown.

"Why?" He shrugs.

"You are intriguing."

"Me?" I ask. Just to make sure I'm hearing all of this right. "The nerdy girl who can't seem to stop daydreaming and writing about fictional scenarios?" He almost smiles.

"Yes." I lick my lips. So...a warrior from another planet has been spying on me, finds me intriguing, and somehow transported me here when I almost got struck by lightning. Oh, boy…

"...Okay...um...I suppose I should tell you my name."

"Roslyn O'Neil." He supplies with the good grace to almost look sheepish. I sigh.

" _Course_ you know my name. Ugh. Well, can I get yours in return?" He nods.

"Skurge." I almost crack a smirk.

"'Skurge'?" I parrot and he nods again. "Okay. Nice to meet you, Skurge."

"Likewise. In the flesh." He replies, and this time there is definitely a smirk. I flush. That smirk was _unnaturally_ good-looking on him. I scowl at him, despite the tiniest blush creeping up.

"Can you, ah, beam me back now? I'd really like to shower and get warm." He chuckles, which only increases the blushing to nuclear levels as he turns and grabs some kind of handle-thingy.

"Of course." Then, some magic thing happens and- -I kid you not- -a rainbow-tinted portal opens up in front of me. I gulp.

"Thanks." I mumble before jogging through it, only to be swept off my feet, undergoing the reverse of the sensation that brought me to...Asgard, was it? Either way, I was instantly back on the front step of my apartment. I shake my head, chuckling at this turn of events.

How had my life gotten so strange?

=#=#=#=#=

Researching Asgard, I found a lot of fangirls with blogs, posting pictures of Thor, who apparently visits Earth frequently and works with the Avengers. They all claim that they've met the man in person, and that he'd kissed most of them. I roll my eyes, then hit the 'previous page' arrow and continue looking. I then find pages about Asgard, the Bifrost, and Norse myths (now proven to be true).

Of _course_! I should have realized that back when Skurge was talking to me. Would have made that conversation a touch less awkward.

But, I mean, it's not like I could've been expected to know _all_ about the Asgardians Norse peoples worshiped as gods once upon a time, right? The more I looked into it, the more I got unsettled. For one, a guy called Heimdall was supposed to be Guardian of the Bifrost, not Skurge. So...what had happened to Heimdall that Skurge had to take over? Was Heimdall dead? Was Skurge _really_ supposed to be Guardian?

Thor hadn't been seen on Earth in a while, and the Avengers didn't have a comment. They seemed as mystified by it as the public was, however. " _But, I mean, it's not like we have to keep meticulous track of our whereabouts at all times, you know? We all got our independence; Thor is no exception._ " Clint Barton, AKA Hawkeye, said in an interview. So, the Avengers didn't know and didn't seem intent on finding out where the big guy is.

Interesting.

=#=#=#=#=

"Are you okay?" The voice of my friend and coworker at a local cinema, Briar Rose, asks worriedly, eyeing me strangely. I nod.

"Yeah, why?"

"You seem...distracted." She replies. "Whassup?" I shrug.

"Just got some stuff on my mind." I reply carefully. I didn't need Bri signing me up for therapy sessions cus she thought I was insane for claiming to have been brought to Asgard.

Which is the truth.

"Like what?" Should have known; Briar is _never_ satisfied at vague, undetailed answers.

"Nothing too important, Bri." I muse, realizing I might just be overthinking this whole thing. After all, maybe Heimdall was retired or something and Thor was off saving the day on other worlds.

Yeah, that was it. I had just been overthinking things.

"It must be important if you've got frown lines that deep." She retorts. I chuckle, continuing to wipe down my concessions station.

"It's just something I thought could be a problem, but it's fine." I explain, unsure if I were talking to Bri or myself with that statement.

"You sure?" She presses. I nod.

"I'm- -" The doors then open and a voice I didn't think I'd hear again (except in my head) rings through the lobby.

"Rowena! I must speak with you!" I pale. What's Skurge doing _here_?! Bri puts her hands in the air, eyeing me with wide, confused eyes.

"Rowena…" She breaths, eyes locked onto my otherworldly stalker. "Who is _that_?"


	15. Every God Needs a Goddess (Priest AU) 2

**SO, THIS HAS BEEN JUST** _ **SITTING**_ **ON MY LAPTOP FOR A LITTLE WHILE NOW AND I'VE DECIDED TO POST IT. HOPE YOU ALL DON'T MIND ME REPLYING TO REVIEWS REAL QUICK!**

 **Indigo575: D'aww! *blushes* Thanks! That story, as I told Belle, was a stumbling block for me and I got really discouraged. To the point that I simply gave up, but your reviews (Belle's too) have made me think/remember that there are people who find a story and like it, despite its flaws. As such, I** _ **will**_ **do more Middle-Earth stories...right after this one! ;) This bunny has been shadowing me for a few days, incessantly, and I believe it's time I confronted it. *cocks gun* Let's do this!**

 **Me and Not You 1001:** _ **What**_ **were you** _ **doing**_ **up at 11:30 at night?! My friend, you need sleep! ;) But seriously, that's where my own sleep schedule is right now, so...can't blame you! ;)**

 **As for Winnie's name change, that is just for variety's sake. I didn't want to be unoriginal and continuously call her 'Rowena' in** _ **every**_ **universe I put her in. Sorry to confuse you...yet again.**

 **I have as much a clue as you do about the plot of** _ **Thor: Ragnarok**_ **. I just so happened to stumble (upon doing some light research on the upcoming movie, Skurge in particular) upon something Karl Urban said about his character, that, while aligned with Hela and an antagonist, Skurge has 'crossed a moral line' by committing himself to her, so I took that as 'he had no choice, and is actually an awkward sweetheart under all that armor and muscle' type thing. So...yeah. Awkward!Skurge you got! XD Glad you liked it!**

 **ANYWAY, ONTO THE STORY!**

 **GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

 **~THE LUPINE SOJOURNER**

"Faster! Hit me harder!" Luke cries as we continue sparring at speeds we could never have achieved when we were human. I growl and swing harder at him, managing to catch him under the chin, knocking him clean off his feet. He grins up at me. "Good. You're getting much better." He praises, suddenly sweeping his legs to try and trip me. I don't let him, leaping over it easily and landing with my hands on his chest, straddling him and pinning him down. He's grinning, golden eyes shining in pride and admiration. "You're already nearly as good as me and you haven't had the gift more than a week." I grin back, leaning down to kiss him.

"I just have an amazing teacher." I reply. He laughs.

"Maybe, love, but you're a natural, there's no denying." I chuckle.

"Thank you." I whisper, leaning teasingly down, hovering just out of reach. "I love you." We kiss, lightly wrestling for dominance.

"And I love you." He replies, coming out on top...until I flip us and pin him.

Then, the Queen's second in command summons us for discussions with Luke and more intense training with a Hive Guardian for me.

 _Joy_.

=#=#=#=#=

Two weeks later, I was deemed ready for field assignments and Luke and I were told to begin our vengeance on the Clergy and those who wronged us.

Luke and I wait on the edge of the farmland til dusk, then make our move. The troop of vampires we were assigned, of course, joined us speedily from the hive, having been unable to get out during the day.

Fortunately, thanks to the mix of our blood and the Queen's blood, we didn't have that problem. _Un_ fortunately, the normal vampires make a _ton_ of noise, giving the family within the house a chance to grab weapons and prepare for our assault.

Not that it helps. The man and woman, who I knew to be Owen and Shannon (brother and former wife of Peter), can only do _so_ much to stop us and the vampires. They're shell-shocked at our abilities, but we don't give them time to do much else but stand there in shock as we take them down. Owen we kept barely alive, so he could lure Peter out.

It's only when all is said and done that we hear panicked, slightly muffled breathing from beneath the floor. I smirk, pointing downward when Luke sends me a questioning glance. He nods and together we move toward the obvious trap door, wrenching it easily open. Inside, there's a young woman, Lucy (who I actually somewhat like, from what little interaction I've ever had with her), in a nice white dress, pressed against the back wall, trembling in terror, hands over her face. Her hands did nothing to muffle her breathing. I grin wickedly down at her.

"Why, hello there." I grin. "Nice seeing you again." Her face scrunches in confusion before realization dawns. And she screams. Probably at my fangs, but more than likely Luke and I's eyes. "Now, now. None of that." I scold, clicking my tongue reproachfully, grabbing her wrist and yanking her up, pulling her over my shoulder. She screams again and beats against my back, to no avail. I jostle her. "Stop that, Lucy, or I'll bite yah!" I snap. Trembling, she goes still as I carry her through the house.

"Ma! Pa!" She screams, beginning to struggle again.

"I _mean_ it, Lucy! They can't help you! Now, be _still_!" I growl, briefly resting my teeth on her leg for added effect. Again, she goes still, but this time she's sobbing. "Thank you!" I grin and walk on toward my bike. Luke is patient as I seat Lucy and fire up the bike.

"They'll meet us at the train." He says, motioning to where the vampires were descending on the small town nearest this farm. I nod. "Let's go." I nod again and take off beside Luke.

=#=#=#=#=

Getting her into the cage on the train took a little work. She seemed to think she may have luck simply running from us as soon as Luke let her go to open the cage. We let her try and she promptly ran into a Familiar and screeched again, spinning and running right back to us. I grabbed her arm, swung her into the cage and locked it shut in one fluid movement. We're only using the cage to keep the Familiars and the occasional vampire in here from eating her. We still needed her as bait, after all. She was trembling again, gazing around in fear as her situation truly sank in. Luke and I go to start the train moving toward the next town.

"I forgot you know her." He said as we work. I shrug.

"So do you." I point out. Luke sighs.

"Only little."

"You think I know her better?" I ask curiously. Luke shrugs.

"That's why I mentioned it." I nod.

"I've met her, yes, had a few conversations. She seems a decent girl."

He hums. "Perhaps. Now, we should be getting back. After all, the Familiars are not as...refined as you or I." I nod.

"That's true. Lead the way." Once we arrive, we see the Familiar that Lucy almost literally ran into pressed against the bars, making kissing noises. In disgust, Luke grabs him and throws the Familiar to the ground.

"That's no way to treat a friend." He points out, voice calm and even, only his body language hinting at any danger.

"Or a lady, for that matter." I add sourly. As the Familiar rises, I wrench him around to face me. "Spread the word; none are to speak to or even _look_ at her. We need her as bait." I hiss and the Familiar bobs his head like he can't do it fast enough.

"Y-yes, mistress!" He squeaks, taking off at a sprint to tell the others. I scoff at his 180 spin of attitude when we stepped in and spin as Lucy steps forward.

"Pl-please, let me go." She whimpers desperately. I grin at her.

"He shouldn't have scared you like that, Lucy. But we can't let you out."

"You're in there for your own protection." Luke adds, striding calmly around the cage. Lucy frowns. "If I let you out, you'd be torn apart, piece by piece." Lucy's eyes go wider (if it were possible) and her trembling increases. Then, something in her expression hardens a little, though her trembling is still visible.

"My uncle's a priest." She snaps, voice trembling and crushing any threat she may have possibly been trying to put into those words. I raise a brow.

"Uncle, you say?" I ask. Oh, that cowardly- -how _dare_ he trade fatherhood of Lucy with Owen and _then_ not tell her the truth! Lucy nods.

"He'll come after me!" She continues. I scoff. Not likely, given that Luke once trusted Peter to do just that, and nearly paid the ultimate price.

"Really?" Luke asks, halting mid-stride. "What makes you so sure?" Luke asks. Lucy frowns.

"He'll come after me!" She repeats insistently. I shake my head.

"If you truly think that, you don't know Priests, honey." I reply, coming to stand with arms crossed in front of her, tutting mockingly.

"He'll come after _you_ , too!" She adds in a tone that reminds me of a kitten mewling and thinking it scared the hound. I laugh, and Luke leans down.

"Now that's something…" He pauses for effect, looking the young woman dead in the eyes. "I'm absolutely counting on." She shrinks back at the close-up sight of our teeth and eyes.

"Now, now, Lucy. No need for all this tremblin' nonsense." I soothe, continuing to grin. "Relax. Nobody's gonna hurt yah in there." She doesn't look convinced. I give her a pretend hurt expression. "What? You don't trust me?" I ask. She shakes her head.

"N-no. Yo-you're...you're like _him_!" She stammers, nodding to Luke. I laugh.

"Yes, I am, but I'm not lying to you. You _are_ safe in there." She shakes her head again, this time in confusion.

"Y-you went missing 'bout three weeks back, Lizzie. What happened to you?" She asks, eyeing my eyes with concern and fear, each vying for dominance. I shrug, unsure why she was so concerned.

"I was reunited with Luke, and got a new perspective on...everything." Lucy frowns.

"What does that mean?" I laugh.

"Nice try. I won't tell you now; it's time to feed the troops." I reply and leave before she can truly react.

=#=#=#=#=

Chicken blood, as I came to find out, was no great substitute for human blood, but at least it satisfied our needs.

"If only we could feed on humans, instead." I mumble under my breath, taking another large gulp of the blood, settling more comfortably on the arm of Luke's chair, arm around his shoulders. Luke chuckles.

"Then, the entire world would eventually be populated by vampires and Familiars." He replies, grinning up at me with fondness and genuine amusement. I smile.

"Is that such a bad thing?" I tease, knowing full well he knew it wasn't. He draws me to him, right into his lap, after sucking down the last of our dinner, kissing me tenderly.

"No, my love. It is not."

=#=#=#=#=

It's been a few days of heading through towns and outposts, getting a few human feedings out of the deal and a couple more Familiars, to boot.

The only unpleasant thing so far? That slinking, greasy salesman that claimed to have information for us, then dared to say he wanted compensation. Good thing he was easily dealt with after we learned that our plan had worked and that Peter was on his way.

"There's your compensation." Luke growls as the man's limp body hits the floor. A few Familiars are already hauling their newest member to his feet. "Put him to work." He orders. I watch apathetically as the man is taken away, then turn and lean into Luke's embrace from behind.

"We should feed our guest." I muse. Luke nods, nuzzling into my neck, the side he'd bitten to make me understand. The side that brought us together again. It was my sweet spot, my breaking point. And he knew it.

"I'll tell the Familiars to prepare something for her." He says alluringly by my ear. I grin.

"Something else you wish to occupy yourself with, Luke?" I ask teasingly, melting into his warm, loving embrace. I feel more than see his grin.

"I'd love to occupy myself with you." He breaths, and I chuckle. Of course, once we were joined in a vampire equivalent of matrimony as soon as possible after I was changed. And so, we'd been _together_ a number of times, displaying our love for each other unashamedly and without reservation. I spin in his arms to face him and tap his nose.

"Unfortunately, my love, we must be patient. Much of the food from the previous village is still edible. We'll feed our guest, _then_ have some fun together. Deal?" He grins, draws me to him, and kisses me hungrily.

"Deal."

=#=#=#=#=

Within five minutes, all was in order. I summoned a Familiar I trusted not to eat Lucy and told him to retrieve her. In moments, it was done. Lucy still trembled as she was sat down without much grace. I nod in thanks to the Familiar who tips his head in respect and leaves.

"You must be starving." Luke muses, circling behind Lucy. "You haven't eaten in days." The girl doesn't speak or move, eyeing the food distrustfully. Luke comes to her side and leans on the table with his hands. "Have you ever had real roast duck?" He asks. Lucy jerkily shakes her head.

"Course not." She mumbles. I lean on her other side, picking up a bit of duck and eating it.

"Well, you're missing out. It's delicious." Luke smiles at me and motions to the food, particularly the duck.

"Try it. You'll never have better." Luke then decides to stop taunting the poor girl and steps to the end of the table, where I join him, my arm snaking around his back as his arm follows my hips teasingly. I pretend I hadn't heard Lucy grab a knife from the table as we stare at our reflection, so different yet so similar to our previous selves. A little knife meant nothing to us, no threat at all.

"What are you?" Lucy asks tentatively. I smile.

"Not drastically different from yourself, but with more...understanding, more clarity to the way things _really_ are in the world."

"What are you talking about?" Luke slips his hat off.

"Church tells is that the eyes are the windows to the soul, and that since Vampire have evolved without eyes, it is a soulless creature to be...eradicated." Luke explains, coming to sit in the chair at the opposite end of the table. I sit on the arm of that chair, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, slipping his hat on my head. "But I have seen the soul of a Vampire, and let me tell you; it is far more pure than that of any man." I hum in agreement.

"Oh, it is. Vampires are to be spread and encouraged." I add. "They are far more precious than any jewel, no matter what anyone else tells you." Lucy swallows.

"Now, you ask us what we are." Luke proceeds promptly. "We are the bringers of the tide. We are the wave that will wash clean this unclean world." He then stiffens subtly in determination and intimidation. "And you and your…" He takes a moment to decide what word to use for Peter. "Priest" he decides, "will help me do it." She swallows. I smile.

"Don't worry. It'll all make sense before long." I assure her. She swallows.

"What does that mean?" She asks. I wink.

"You'll see...long as _she_ accepts you, of course."

 **IT DON'T TAKE A GENIUS TO FIGURE OUT WHO LIZZIE'S TALKING ABOUT, RIGHT? ANYWAY, HOPE YOU LIKE AND ALL THAT JAZZ.**


	16. Requested' AU 2: Hobbit

**I DID PROMISE MORE MIDDLE-EARTH SHENANIGANS, DIDN'T I? XD ANYWAY, LET'S GET REVIEWS REPLIED TO BEFORE I GET TO THE STORY.**

 **Me and Not You 1001: Yes, poor Lucy has it rough. Next Priest AU chapter deals with Luke and Lizzie meeting Peter again, after Lizzie's transformation and Peter failing to save Luke from a vampire hive on a mission a year or so previous to the start of the movie. Needless to say, it doesn't go well. ;)**

 **Lucy is about 18, I think.**

 **IKR! I saw Hela, and I was like 'DANNGG! Guess that's what would have happened if Galadriel took the Ring, huh?' XD I LOVE it and CAN'T WAIT TO SEE IT! I'm hoping to go opening night, but need money. :(**

 **Anyway, here's the 'requested' scene we talked about in our PMs.**

 **HOPE YOU ALL LIKE!**  
 **GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

 **~THE LUPINE SOJOURNER**

"What kind of forest is this?!" I growl under my breath as I stumble over intertwined roots that nearly completely obscured the pathway.

Again. Seriously, what is this place? It's fricking cold and the sun doesn't even seem to exist here. I know what it seems like, but...that's impossible- -right? There was no way I was in The Hobbit, right? I shake those thoughts out of my head and keep moving. Eventually, this path would lead me out, so all I had to do was keep walking. I sigh, check my water canteen-thing (made of skin or something) to find that, yes, it was still empty and, yes, I was still dehydrated.

Ah, well. I just gotta hope this forest ends soon.

Like I've been doing for the past two days straight! To distract myself, I sing the first song that comes to mind.

"Keep walking, but you won't knock down our wall! Keep walking, but she isn't going to fall! It's plain to see, your brains are very small! So, keep walking, but you won't our wall!" It was a song from Veggietales, a silly little kid's show my folks let us watch when us kids were younger. The veggies acting out bible and other stories with funny little twists to teach kids life lessons was one of my favorite shows when I was about 6, up til maybe 11, then Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles took over. Regardless, I laugh at myself and then have to stumble back as I nearly fall off a destroyed bridge across a small, sluggish river. I groan, roll my eyes, but start heading down the bank to cross over. Just as I am about to touch the water, I am hauled up and find myself face to face, on the ruined bridge, with what appears to be a male human. I blink.

"Crossing the stream that way would be most foolish." He lets go of my arm and steps back. "These waters erase memory, identity, everything if you drink or otherwise expose yourself to it." I frown, adjusting the satchel I'd had since I arrived...wherever this is.

"What are you talking about?" The man tilts his head. It's then I notice the ears. Honest-to-goodness Elf ears. What the frick?!  
"The waters of Mirkwood are not for touching, drinking, or bathing." He repeats. I blink. Mirkwood...guy with Elf-like ears…I pale as realization slams into my gut.

Crud. I'm in the Hobbit?! How?!

"O-oh." I stammer. "Right." The Elf frowns.

"Are you well, milady?" He asks. I nod.

"I'm fine." I reply, forcing a smile. The Elf's frown has not disappeared.

"I do not believe that." He replies, easing me up with a grip that told me I was not going anywhere except where he wanted me. "I believe it would be wise to take you to King Thranduil." I blink.

"Uh...no, thanks. I'm- -" The elf merely tugs me along behind him, my arm still gripped tightly in his hand. "Ow!" I protest to deaf ears as we continue walking. "Let go!" I protest, squirming. His hand does not ease up as he all but drags me along the path.

=#=#=#=#=

Nearly half an hour later, we came to the very same entrance to Thranduil's domain as featured in Desolation of Smaug.

Fantastic! I'd now have to deal with Lee Pace's cynical, salty Elf King. My Elven kidnapper does not break grip or stride as we make our way to the platform/throne room Thorin and Thranduil had their verbal fistfight in the movie. I gulp. When was I in the movie? Before? After? During? Regardless, I had a feeling this would not end well.

Within minutes, I was thrust in front of the throne to face whatever Thranduil had in store for me. He was even hotter in person, I gotta say, sitting regally reclined on his throne.

"Well." He states simply, sitting a little straighter and looking me over down his nose. "I thought the patrol was toying with me, but here you are." It was my turn to frown.

"What?"

"Did you think your presence in my forest these past two days would go unnoticed?" The King asks coolly. I draw myself up, brushing the past two days' dust off my shoulders.

"Honestly?" I reply, shrugging. "I had no idea where I was. Two days ago, I was running around a lake when it started storming really hard- -"  
"There have been no storms in the area recently." Thranduil snaps. I roll my eyes.

"Calm down. I was getting to that." I reply airly, waving aside his interruption. "Anyway," I continue without waiting for a response (something told me fighting fire with fire might be the way to go here), "I fell down the bank of the lake Loch Ness, in Inverness, Scotland, and woke up here after getting struck by lightning."

"Lies!" Thranduil growls, standing and moving to stand not two feet away. I glower at him, crossing my arms for good measure.

"It's the truth, buddy. Like it or not." I reply. Thranduil glares at me, drawing himself up.

"I do not know or care why you are hiding the truth. But know this; I will find out the truth." He then makes a discreet motion to his guards. "Take her to the dungeon." I blink in shock.

"I'm telling the truth!" I bark angrily, backing up from the guards. "I swear!" The guards grab me. "Stop!" I protest, to deaf ears. I wrench my arms free suddenly. "You're making a mistake, Thranduil!" I growl without thinking. Thranduil whirls on me and is suddenly mere centimeters from my face.

"How do you know my name?" He hisses testily. I huff.

"I told you!" I snap. "I'm not from this world. In my world, this is a story, a play to entertain people. I myself have seen and read it a few times, so I know your name." Thranduil stands, frowning.

"And you know what is about to occur?" He asks. I shrug.

"In the story, there isn't a girl that appears seemingly out of thin air, so I have no idea if that'll affect things, but yes. I- -"  
"Then tell me of the Dwarves, or are they not characters?" Thranduil interjects smoothly.

"I...what about them?" I ask tentatively, a distrustful, confused frown furrowing my brow.

"Their quest." Thranduil clarifies. "Does it succeed?" I lick my lips, taking a step back.  
"I...don't think that's a good idea. It'll change everything even more if I tell you." I explain. Thranduil studies me for a few moments.

"You hold a certain wisdom, for all your eccentricities." He muses. I cock a brow.

"...Thanks?" I reply, unsure if that was a compliment. "Anyway, are we done? Cus I'd like to leave and head to Laketown, then…" I pause, unsure of what I was planning to do after Laketown. "Figure it out from there." Thranduil considers this.

"I insist you stay the night, at least." He finally says. "After all, Mirkwood is no place for a maiden, even one as...capable as you appear to be. At night in particular." I sigh.

"Well, in that case, my name's Rowena. Rowena O'Neil." I say, extending a hand to him.

"Oh. You shake it." I prompt when Thranduil only appears confused as to what I was doing with my hand. He awkwardly does and that's that.

"Since you already know my name, I shall simply have my guard escort you to your temporary housing and bring you anything else you require." I nod.

"I appreciate it, Highness." I reply and head out.

"You are fortunate." The guard muses. Tauriel, I realize. "He does not take to newcomers and strangers that easily." I shrug, grinning.  
"What can I say? I've got a natural charm about me." She laughs, and continues down the hallway.

"You remind me of one of our prisoners." I raise a brow. "The dark-haired archer." She clarifies upon seeing my expression, remembering I knew these characters.

She was already talking about Kili. Oh, my.

"I see. Well, I shall take it as a compliment." I reply, nudging her side teasingly. She is blushing slightly.

"He is so...different than I thought Dwarves to be." She muses, almost without even realizing it was out loud. I nod.

"They all are." I assure her. Tauriel sighs.

"Their king is as stubborn and arrogant as hir-nin described." She replies. "I heard his discussion with the Dwarf and Thorin claims my king abandoned the Dwarves to Smaug." I sigh.

"Well, in the plays, it does appear that way." I muse. Tauriel huffs.

"All our king desires is the safety and protection of his people. He did not think fighting a dragon served that end." I shrug.

"Well, in any event, what's past is past. Anyway, I'd love to wash Mirkwood off and eat something. I've only had what little provisions were...sent with me." I reply, patting my empty stomach, which promptly rumbled, as if it had heard me mention food. Tauriel laughs.

"Indeed. Right this way."

=#=#=#=#=

Within an hour, I was sitting, cleaned and in a borrowed simple off-white dress, in my loaned quarters, Tauriel and I chatting as I satisfied my hunger. Soon enough, she had to return to her duties and I bid her farewell.

It wasn't until about an hour of trying and failing to sleep that I feel a hand on my shoulder. I leap up and whirl, but no one was there. Then, as suddenly as the hand tapped my shoulder, a shorter Martin Freeman was suddenly facing me.

Bilbo Baggins?!

"Shh!" He premtively hisses, classic finger to his lips. I frown. "Listen, I heard you talking to Thranduil and Tauriel earlier and I think I need your help."


	17. My Asgardian Kidnapper (Marvel AU prt 2)

**I WILL** _ **TRY**_ **NOT TO DIG** _ **TOO**_ **MUCH INTO MOVIE MATERIAL, AS I KNOW NOT A LOT OF PEOPLE HAVE SEEN IT YET. I MYSELF HAVE, BUT THAT'S BESIDE THE POINT.**

 **ONTO REVIEWS!**

 **Me and Not You 1001: 0.0 Glad you like it! XD Honestly, I probably could have had Rowena be a** _ **lot**_ **more sassy with Thranduil, but she remembered that he's not exactly the best person to get in a sass-off with, and was just so done with everything after two days of wandering in Mirkwood and I guess that's why she didn't. XD Seriously glad you like it!**

 **Indigo575: XD YYAASS! Trouble always manages to find my darling little girl. It just makes for interesting stories to tell her kids. =D 'hey, did I tell you about the time _ happened? Good times, good times…' XD**

 **GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

 _The doors then open and a voice I didn't think I'd hear again (except in my head) rings through the lobby._

" _Rowena! I must speak with you!" I pale. What's Skurge_ doing _here?! Bri puts her hands in the air, eyeing the Asgardian with wide, confused eyes._

" _Rowena…" She breaths, eyes locked onto my otherworldly stalker. "Who is_ that _?"_

"Uh…" I draw a complete blank as to how to explain Skurge to my friend. Before I can think of anything, Skurge steps forward.

"It is urgent I speak with you." He mumbles with the softness and subtlety of thunder, glancing around conspiratorially. I sigh.

"Bri, listen, I gotta talk to him. I'm sorry. I'll be back." The unspoken 'I'll explain later' is clear in my expression as I go through a side door and walk over to Skurge, who directs me to as secluded a corner of the lobby as we can find. "What is it?" I ask, trying my hardest not to let my embarrassment and impatience show. Obviously, Skurge was distressed about something and wouldn't have come here without reason.

"I have made a grievous error and I-I need you to come with me to Asgard." The statement takes a few seconds to click in my brain.

" _What_?!" I hiss. "I _can't_ go to Asgard!" I add, not waiting for a reply. Suddenly, I have two _huge_ hands wrapped practically all the way around my biceps, and I am being shaken as gently as Skurge's frazzled, high-strung state will allow.

"You _must_!" He insists. I shake my head and Skurge, remarkably, lets go when I bring my hands up to push his away.

"I _can't_!" I repeat. "My whole _life_ is here!" I protest. "I can't just drop it and go to Asgard!" Skurge's face darkens and all of a sudden my wrists are grabbed and next second, I am looking back at the concessions stand to find Bri scrambling for her phone and it takes a second to figure out that Skurge has me over his shoulder and is running away from the theater, one huge machine gun clutched in his hand. "Skurge, stop!" I scream, pounding on his back, but I'm pretty sure it hurts my hands more than it hurts him. I may as well have been a sack of potatoes, for all the attention he paid my continued protests. Suddenly, that weird, suction-like feeling engulfs me and I am pressed uncomfortably against Skurge's shoulder armor as dizzingly bright rainbow-colored lights assault my eyes. Then, I am dropped down and I pound my fists against his chest. "What the _frick_?!" I scream. Skurge grabs my wrists and pins them with one hand, holding my chin in the other so I have to look at him.

"I had to keep you safe, Roslyn." Is all he says. I huff, tugging my face out of his hands. Skruge then lets my wrists go and I step back, glaring at him.

"From _what_?!" He takes a deep breath as if to steel himself for what he was about to say, then looks me in the eye.

"Hela." The name doesn't ring any bells just yet, but there was something almost familiar about the name.

"That doesn't help!" I scream, beyond caring about restraining myself. "Who in Heaven's name is Hela?!" Skurge sits like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"The Goddess of Death." I blink, the statement flooring me.

"As in...Thor's secret older sister?" I mumble, feeling light-headed all of a sudden. Skurge nods as I wearily sink down beside him.

"Aye."

I blink. "Oh, boy." Skurge sighs.

"I could think of no other way to- -"

"You brought me into her line of sight, Skurge." I interject suddenly. "I was _fine_ on Earth." I grumble. "You didn't need to kidnap me." He sighs.

"I acted rashly, yes, and I- -"

"Don't apologize, Skurge." I sigh listlessly. "Just send me back."

"I can't do that." I glare at him.

"Yes, you can."

"No, I cannot. Not without ensuring that you are discovered." I let out a growl of frustration, running distressed hands through my hair.

"Then why bring me here?!" I scream, rounding on him, eyes blazing.

"I panicked!" He confesses, standing.

"Send me home!" I bark.

" _No_!" He insists. I stomp my foot.

"Skurge, you can't keep me here! You have to let me go!" He glowers at me.

"And why is that?"

" _Because_!" I snap. "Because I _need_ to get home! Everyone thinks- -I don't know what they think, but it sure as _ifreann_ isn't good!" I scream, getting as in his face as one can when they're yelling at someone about half a head taller than you. After a stare-down I did _not_ back down from, Skurge stomps away, fiddling with a sword, inserting it halfway into a stand-like thing in the center of the room.

"We are not through." He warns severely, then stomps off. I throw a specific finger up at his retreating back.

"Screw you, Skurge!" I scream.

"Maybe later!" He calls back, and I can't tell if it's out of childish spite or the need to have the last word, but it honestly floors me. I scream out in frustration and sink to my knees, the rage finally giving way to hopeless tears at the fact that I was all alone in a strange place with no one to show me around or tell me what anyth- -are those...what the heck?!

There is a _ton_ of (most likely) stolen stuff here!

"Skurge, what the frick?" I grumble, finding yet another reason to hate him. And I _do_. I really do! He kidnapped me and- -so _what_ if he were doing it 'to protect me'! It's still kidnapping and _still_ 1000% wrong!

And now I find he's a _thief_ on top of everything! _Why_ did he have to pick _me_?! I then glance at the sword. It was _massive_ , and easily half as heavy as I am, most likely. Nevertheless, I have to try. It's clear it means something important, so maybe if I fiddle with it, I can go back- -Gah! Tingling electricity surges through me and I end up crashing back into the pile of stuff, tumbling over a scooter and ending up buried by everything and I think something cut my temple. I pick myself out of the pile and finger my temple gently. Yep. I'm bleeding. _Frick_. Frustrated and cursing, I kick several smaller items around the room. "Skurge, you are a grade-A jerk!" I scream to the air. I then get it into my head that I should go get some straight answers out of my kidnapper for once. But, just as I get to the doorway, I find myself back in the center of the room. Trying again had the same result. I unleash a scream and let my knees hit the floor helplessly. It was useless. I was stuck here til such time as Skurge, insufferable jerk-face he is, decided to send me home or unlock the room.

And who knew how long _that_ would be.

Before I knew it, I was crying again, curling into myself and hoping no one happened by here to see me like this. A hand on my shoulder had me scrambling up, hiccupping, and wiping my tears to find an African-American man with dreadlocks and a dazzling set of golden eyes.

"It's alright." He assures me, not moving closer, which I appreciated. "I won't hurt you." I back up a step reflexively.

"Wh-who are you?" Is all I can think to ask. He smiles gently.

"A friend. My name is Heimdall." I nod.

"The Gatekeeper in the myths?" I can't help but ask. He nods.

"The same. Now, shall we go?" I don't think of how he got in, or that the sword was on his back. All I think of is the tingling I still subtly feel all over.

"There's- -"

"It was designed to keep you in, not others out." Heimdall points out. "Will you come?" I swallow.

"Where're we going?"

"A safer place." I then slowly take his proffered hand, hoping it was the right thing to do.

"Alright. My name is Roslyn, by the way." Heimdall nods.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance."


	18. From Nothing (Greatest Showman AU 1)

**Me and not You 1001: So sorry again for adding to the list of spoilers you've had thrown at you so far, darling! :( Hope you like this story and that it makes up for the spoiler!**

 **OKAY, LOOKING BACK, I MADE MY POOR YOUNG DARLING SOUND FAR TOO MATURE! ^.^' OOPS. CALL IT HER UPBRINGING AND THE TIME PERIOD GREAT SHOWMAN IS SET IN, KAY? :)**

 **ANYWAY,** _ **THE GREATEST SHOWMAN**_ **IS ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS AND WELL WORTH A VIEWING! HOPE YOU ALL GET A CHANCE TO SEE IT! THIS IS THE RESULT OF ME WATCHING IT AND THEN BEING OBSESSED WITH THE SOUNDTRACK EVER SINCE! ;) SERIOUSLY, IT'S AMAZING!**

 **BUT I DIGRESS! ONTO THE STORY!**

 **~ THE LUPINE SOJOURNER**

It was a Tuesday, I think, when I met him. Trailing behind his father in clothes that had definitely seen better days, to tailor a new suit for Father. The boy was cute, in a rugged 'boy from the street' kind of way. I watch him help his father for a while, distracted as I wait for my mother to finish the tea. I take a chance as the father dismisses him and approach, clearing my throat as I had been taught. He whirls, all blonde hair, green eyes and trepidation. I give him an easy smile.

"Hello." I greet. _Start simple. Good plan._ I congratulate myself, folding my hands daintily. The boy gives me a half-hearted smile.

"He-hello, ma'am." He returns, nodding and even bowing a little at the waist. It seems he, too, knows how to properly greet someone, at least.

"I am Rosemary O'Neil." I introduce myself, extending a hand, knuckles up. The boy knows what to do here, as well, and lightly kisses them.

"I am Liam Eorl." He introduces in turn, but keeps my hand in his. "You are very pretty, Rosemary." He blurts, looking utterly confident in doing so. The statement, made so boldly, makes me flush and chuckle nervously. What was a lady supposed to do here?

 _Fight fire with fire._

"We- -why, thank you, Liam. You are handsome, yourself." I retort, a playful smirk betrayed by my flushed cheeks. Liam smiles.

"Thank you!" It shocks me to realize that this I had meant every word I'd just said, though I only said it in an attempt to pay in turn the slight fluster he gave me. Just then, Liam's father, Mr. Eorl, calls for his son and the small piece of entertainment I had found all afternoon had to leave. I followed at a distance and was surprised (but also very pleased) when Liam turned while walking to wave at me. "Bye, Rosemary!" He calls. I barely manage a wave back before cursing myself. A lady was supposed to return a farewell, wasn't she?

"How does he know your name?" Father asks, coming to stand beside me, drawing me back almost angrily. I gulp.

"Is it only proper for a lady to introduce herself, is it not, Father?" I explain tentatively. All I get is a curt nod and a 'I suppose so. Return inside.' for my efforts to be diplomatic.

 **[The Next Week]**

I was _still_ learning all about teatime when he came again. I hardly dared believe it when I heard his voice affirmed a request for fabric. I wanted nothing more than to simply run to him and begin an actual conversation, but I knew I'd never hear the end of these lessons if I did, so I used the first excuse to leave properly and then barely managed a sedate, graceful walk toward the stairs, which I scurried down as if I were being chased. I then forced myself to take a more sedate pace, like a proper lady would. I want to go faster, like an itch under my skin, but I make myself walk slower. Finally, I see him. And he sees me, smiles, and subtly waves to let me know he knew I was there without giving me away. I am content to remain in the doorway, out of sight, but still able to see Liam. He was handing his father the fabric and pins the man needed. He then happens to catch my eye. I smile in greeting and he winks at me in return. I flush a little and wave timidly.

"Rosemary, darling!" I hear my mother call. I sigh.

"Yes, mother?" I return, coming back toward her as a lady should do. After all, a lady shouldn't yell or raise her voice.

"Tea is ready in the parlor. Come." I smile. The parlor was in view of Liam! I nod and move gracefully alongside my mother and gently take my seat. "Now, you must learn to sip properly. Take the cup." I nod and do so, awaiting further instruction. "Arm extended, pinky out, sip. Never slurp." My mother instructs. I perform the assigned tasks as best I can. I then slowly and carefully return the cup to its saucer. "Again." I take the cup and await the order to continue, happening to glance at Liam. He's fiddling with things on the coffee table, smiling deviously at me. I force myself to return to my task, slowly bringing the cup to my lips, pinky and arm extended, listening to my mother rattle off the same instructions yet again. Mother nods approvingly. Then, as I am preparing to do it over again, look at Liam. As my teacup touches my lips, Liam brings a makeshift cup to his own lips and pretends to slurp a scrap of brown fabric with the funniest noise and expression on his face. I can't help a laugh, even though it causes me to spill tea all over my chest. Liam laughs, as well, and it's worth it.

"Rosemary!" My father snaps. I cringe, put my teacup down, and approach, not daring to look at Liam for fear of getting in more trouble, but I happen to catch the fearful, regretful expression on his face. I face my father. "Look at your dress." He growls. "Is this how we taught you to act?" He snaps. I pale a little and shake my head, but can't force words through my mouth. Liam is suddenly beside me.

"It's my fault, sir." He explains. "I made her laugh." He adds.

"I see." My father seethes, stepping closer. I cringe, knowing what my father would do. Sure enough, he slaps poor Liam across the face, the sound loud and sharp in the small room. "Stay away from my daughter." He barks. Everyone can only stand there in shocked silence and tears prick my eyes as I slip out and up to my room to cry.

Soon enough, though I can't tell you how long it took, my mother comes slowly into the room. I curl deeper into myself as I soak my pillow in tears. How could Father be so cruel?

"Because he wants you to have the life he thinks you deserve, and you cannot, in his eyes, afford any...distractions." I blink. I'd said that out loud? I rub my tear away and force myself to sit up.

"But, Mother, W- -the boy only made me laugh. How is that such a crime?" She sighs.

"He thinks it was a sign the boy was...interested in you." I flush, shocked. Of course, I couldn't tell my mother that she was right, but...how could father have read me that easily? I swallow.

"I...don't think he is. He is only a boy, about my age, Mother. Isn't it natural for boys to still be a bit childish in this stage?" I ask slowly, praying I'd avoid the topic of my 'distraction' with Liam for the time being. Mother nods.

"Well, yes, but your Father thinks intervening at this stage will avoid further interference with your education, darling. Isn't that worth it?" I shake my head.

"But, Mother, he humiliated poor Liam! There is no excuse! Father was cruel!" I protest, knowing that Mother would hear me out, at least. She sighs.

"Oh, darling. He's lower-class."

"That doesn't matter!" I want to scream, but instead make myself clench my fists and keep my voice relatively low. "He's a _boy_! Just a _child_! And Father _struck_ him like he strikes me for playing too long in the woods!" Mother's jaw sets and I know I've said the wrong thing.

"It is to correct you, young lady." She replies tersely, standing with giving me a disapproving glare. "You and every misbehaving child." My jaw trembles with the words I want to say, but I let my mother continue. "Do you understand?" I nod, blinking back fresh tears.

My mother, the one person I thought would understand, would stand with me, had abandoned me for the opposition.

And I am helpless against their combined might.

=#=#=#=#=

The next night, I see that someone has left a note in my windowsill. It was stiff with frost, so it was there all night. I eagerly take it in and open it.

 _Dearest Rosemary,_

 _It is my hope that you are well and that I am not intruding, but I have a proposition._

 _Would you meet me on the beach near your house come, say, quarter of an hour after teatime finishes?_

 _I only wish to see you again, see that smile and hear that laughter I so rarely see in your house._

 _Liam Phineas Eorl._

My heart skips a beat. Oh, dear! This was most improper!

But here I am, slipping out my window and making the small leap onto the ground. I abandon all propriety and run to the only one who constantly supports and allies themselves with me.

Liam.

Of course, my parents have no idea I am with Liam, but as long as I am home in an hour, they never seem to care.

I tell Liam that and he seems relieved, offering his hand and we run down the shore.

"I saw this yesterday." He says, pointing into a shallow area filled with coral and fish swimming around without a care. It was beautiful! My eyes widen in wonder.

"Oh, Liam!" I breath. "Lee, this is amazing!" it was made more so when Liam grins and we take off again, Liam showing me so many wondrous things I'd never noticed before, and we ended the day by creating sandcastles, where Liam told me that I was pretty and that he loved my freckles. I'd laughed giddily and hugged him. Hardly _anyone_ liked my freckles. I'd never felt happier as I skipped home.

Until my father snapped at me about the sand on my dress. I brushed it off and apologized, and Father seemed to dismiss the matter, which I was glad for.

Those visits became increasingly frequent and I found myself falling more into the world Liam created, the one he dreams of one day creating.

Where no one has to be ashamed or bite their tongue. Where they can truly be themselves and receive no admonishment or rebuke for it. He showed me so many new, wonderful things, I couldn't help but be enthralled and desperate for a part to play in this brand new world Liam would create.

Preferably at his side, with a wedding band on our hands, but _any_ part would suffice, as long as I could be with him.

=#=#=#=#=

The 'cycle of my unladylike behaviour' continued and so my father sent me to finishing school, the very day that Liam and Mr. Eorl came to complete my father's new cloths. I'd been locked in my bedroom and instructed to pack. With many tears and barely restrained yells of frustration and fury, I slowly bring myself to fll my suitcase. That done, I wash my face with cold water and dry it carefully.

No trace must be left of my tears. A true lady never show that she cries.

Or so my mother has told me. Repeatedly, when my parents forbade any more excursions and dalliances with the 'lower class filth'. I'd bitten my tongue til it nearly bled, but it did no good. They saw through me and discovered my 'rebellious streak'.

All I wanted was to be myself, to be accepted, no matter what, but my own family could never give me that, so to Liam I would always turn.

Or so I thought.

My suitcase is carried out to the car and all that's left is for me to walk out the door and into the carriage. But that seems so impossible.

And yet, I find myself carriage that's pulling away, tears brimming. In front of my father, no less. Liam's distressed cry of my name does nothing to help. I have to pull a book out of my carry-on bag to cover my face and pretend to read it so I don't reveal my tears.

=#=#=#=#=

The first letter was a shock, but a most welcome one. It was hardly a week into my term. I was dreading it.

I didn't fit in at all. For one, my Irish red hair was different. So were my freckles.

My father immigrated from Ireland and his genes made me different then all the other girls here. And that made me miserable.

So Liam's letter made me the happiest I'd been since leaving home.

 _Dearest Rosemary,_

 _I don't know if this letter will find you, but I pray it does, and that it finds you as well as one can be in a school like yours._

 _Father and I aren't getting much business lately, unfortunately. But Father seems confident that we will find more customers soon._

 _On another note, I saw this fabric and thought it would look beautiful on you. So I snuck away one of Father's scraps to send to you. Do you like it?_

He went on to detail his address and the small jobs his father acquired lately.

I stayed up into the night writing my reply.

Dear Liam,

I quite enjoyed your thoughtful gift of the fabric. I tried it on my wrist to see how it looked and it complimented my skin wonderfully. Thank you for thinking of me.

To be frank, your letter has been the highlight of my term here. The other girls are not the epitome of proper ladylike behavior and tease me constantly. Mainly about my wild hair and my freckles. As such, I am finding that I do not fit in here at all, but your letter was quite the morale booster.

In fact, if it were not for the teasing and belittling, I would be able to derive a small amount of joy in the classes, if only at how utterly pointless they seem. There are entire classes devoted to the proper etiquette for dining, as well as socializing and relaxing after the meal, for example.

Sincerely Yours,

Rosemary Charity O'Neil

For some reason, I was nervous sealing and sending the letter, but also felt a sense of elation and relief that Liam hadn't simply forgotten me and moved on to another starry-eyed girl that wouldn't have to leave for finishing school.

=#=#= **[Years Later]** =#=#=

It was finally over. I'd completed finishing school and was now free! I'd brought back every single letter, trinket, and scrap Liam had ever sent in a small wooden box I kept locked with the key on a chain around my neck.

It took a mere day for the man I'd grown so attached to to come to my parents' house and retrieve me. Of course, my parents warned me, lectured me, and all but forbade me to go to him, but I refused, standing my ground.

"I'd rather live my life running the risks of poverty with Liam's love than be stuck in misery with you or some other prick you marry me off to!" I'd finally screamed, seconds before running with my bag out to meet Liam. My mother seemed utterly shocked and my father furious, but I couldn't care less. I stormed beyond them, fed up with the whole charade they tried to force me to live. Once out the doors, I all but leapt into Liam's waiting arms and together we raced down the street, hand in hand.

Off to the world that we'd design together.


	19. My Asgardian Captor (of Sorts)

**HERE'S MORE OF MY MARVEL!ROWMER AU FOR YOU GUYS! SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG!**

 **GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

 **~THE LUPINE SOJOURNER**

"Careful." Heimdall says, offering a hand to help me down the cliffside and onto solid, horizontal ground once more.

The walk was mostly quiet, the need for silence unspoken, and I didn't know just _what_ made the silence necessary.

And I found I didn't _want_ to know.

If my Irish twin (meaning we were born less than a year apart) brother, Everett, were here, he'd be all over this in a heartbeat, but me? Nah. I prefer knowing just enough to understand, and remaining on the sidelines, where I was safe.

Everett was curious enough for the both of us and then some, and I was gullible enough to chase him through our childhood. Then, he'd joined the Air Force and couldn't persuade me to join him. I knew I wasn't cut out for it, so why bother?

"Are you alright?" Heimdall asks suddenly, shaking me from my reverie. "You seem...overwhelmed." I nod, smiling a little.

"You're the first person to even _think_ how this is affecting me." I muse, sighing. "Skurge just- -"

"Made a hasty decision and must now live with the consequences." I frown.

"What decision? Bringing me here?" Heimdall shakes his head.

"No. He, after seeing what Hela was capable of, agreed to help her, seeing as she would have killed him otherwise." I lick my lips.

"He's working for the Goddess of Death?!" I ask breathily, shocked. Heimdall nods.

"Not from any sense of willingness, I assure you. He is merely a survivalist." I take a breath. Just what had Skurge sucked me into?!

"...Now what?" I ask softly, fiddling with my fingers. Heimdall offers me a small smile, steadying hand on my shoulder.

"Now, I need your help." I raise a brow.

"With what?" Heimdall's jaw re-sets to the firm, serious expression he usually wore and I already miss the small smile.

"With the evacuation of Asgard." I pale. _Me_?! "There is no one else around." I swallow, shaking.

"I- -I...Um…" I'm not my brother! This is too much! I can't! But...these people need help. And, like Heimdall said, I'm the only one available. There's no one else. If I don't do this, innocent people will die. And it would be my fault.

Taking another breath, I swallow and face Heimdall. "What do...what do I do?" Heimdall gives me another small smile.

"Simply follow this path. Tell the occupants of the first two houses to follow you on my orders and lead them back down this path to the large, gnarled tree. I will meet you there." I nod, shaking. Oh, boy…

Automatically, I turn and begin walking down the path when Heimdall halts me with a hand on my shoulder, the other unclasping his cloak.

"You'll be less conspicuous with this on." He points out, already draping it over my shoulders. I nod.

"Thank you." I mumble gratefully, my head still swimming with what I just found out I was involved in. Heimdall's hand stayed on my shoulder.

"I know you're scared, and I know this is overwhelming, but I need you to know I believe you can do this." I swallow.

"And...and what if I can't?" I mumble, hardly even audible.

"I _know_ you can do this. All I am asking of you is lead people down this path with you. Then we will be safe." I nod. That helped put it in perspective.

"Okay. it's not that much." I whisper, unsure if I were speaking to Heimdall or myself. Not that it mattered. Heimdall was already walking down the path in the opposite direction he'd told me to go. I turn my back on the retreating guardian and make myself walk. I envisioned the trails around Loch Ness, comforted slightly in their familiarity in this vastly unfamiliar situation and place.

=#=#=#=#=

"H-hello?" I ask, knocking on the first door, the third one from where I started. Figured I should start at the end and work my way back.

Now I faced another problem; what do I say? 'Hey, so...I'm new here, but Heimdall trusts me to lead you guys down this path because Hela's back and, trust me, she's bad news. So...let's go!'?

...Yeah, no.

Too late, the door opens.

"What is it?" A tired-looking man asks, but notices the cloak on my shoulders. His eyes harden and he seems to understand. "Heimdall sent you?" I nod, my tongue seeming too big for my mouth and unable to form words. I then force myself to breath. This was going to be easier than I thought, if Heimdall's cloak was so recognizable.

"The Goddess of Death is here, and I don't know who she is, but he says we need to evacuate Asgard, so- -"

"I will get my family." He interjects, motioning me inside. I stay right inside the door as the guy runs through his house, yelling instructions. Within a minute, feels like, he, his wife, and two young kids are ready to go.

I take a breath. I can do this.

Soon, we reach the second house and it's much of the same, except me and the family wait outside. One Asgardian, the man that came to the door at the first house, puts a hand on my shoulders.

"Are you well?" He asks. I frown, looking down to find that I was shaking.

"Oh! Um...yeah...sorta." I confess, slumping a little before straightening up again. "I'll feel better when we get out of here." I add. The man nods.

"I agree. This Goddess of Death may be unknown, but clearly Heimdall believes she means disaster for everyone. And if Heimdall deems the threat severe enough to warrant evacuation, I trust his judgement." I nod, and the third family finally shows up to save me from whatever nonsense my mouth would have spewed in response. I swallow and continue walking down the path with more confidence then I really felt. All I had to do now was- -what was that noise? "Shh!" The man beside me hisses. He only needs to hear a few more seconds of something coming toward us to pale and scream 'run!'. I make myself stay put, ushering everyone down the path. Whatever was coming, I _had_ to make sure I completed my mission. Heimdall believed in and was counting on me.

"Keep going!" I scream at the children, only for a thin bar of some kind to slam into my ribs, knocking the wind out of my lungs and my body back into a tree. By the time I recover, I have been thrown over a bony shoulder and am being carried through the forest toward the city. Luckily, I can see that, though pursued, the kids have a good head start. I breath out in relief. I'd done it. Now...I just had to survive whatever was about to happen.

 _Dang_ this skeleton has a sharp shoulder blade!

=#=#=#=#=

Within five minutes, I am thrust into a gathering crowd of murmuring, frightened, confused Asgardians.

Great. Blending in shouldn't be a problem. Cus I'm frightened and confused. I stand where I'm left and try not to draw attention to myself. The seconds tick by and, just as I open my mouth to ask someone what was going on, I hear someone loudly clearing their throat at the head of the crowd. Assuming this was something here to tell us what to do or something, I slowly make my way a little closer to see- -oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me!

Skurge?! I know Heimdall said you aligned yourself with Hela just to survive, but you still _agreed_ to- -holy frick is that a giant wolf!

I have officially lost my grip on what's happening (not that I ever truly had it, really) as the giant thing first sits, then lays down at a woman in black and green's commands. That things eyes glow green, I swear, the same green as the skeletons and- -oh, that makes sense. The woman controls them. Okay.

" _Some_ misguided soul" Skurge begins, with an air of someone who has to sound tough, but can't quite fully commit to the role. I frown. What was Hela making him do? "has stolen the Bifrost sword." No idea what that- -was that the sword Heimdall took from the Bifrost? Oh. "Tell us where it is, or there will be consequences." Skurge then looks at who I assume is Hela, and I just notice how utterly spiky her head is all of a sudden. Like, it is a helmet or- - "Bad ones." Skurge add, cutting my odd thoughts short. The seconds drag on in silence. "Well?" Skurge presses. Still, the people remain silent. Hela eventually clicks her tongue.

"Her." She points out some random woman not ten feet from me. Instantly, shocked and horrified gasps and murmurs ring around the crowd. It occurs to me then that I could give myself up and possibly save this woman. I knew who had the sword and the rough area he was supposed to meet me in.

However, the cowardly part of me doesn't let any words form as the crowd is forcibly parted by skeletons and the selected girl was dragged forth to her doom and thrust into a kneeling position not far from Skurge. My heart leaps into my throat as the seconds slowly inch forward. And yet...Skurge can't make himself swing the ax. "Well, executioner?" Hela drawls expectantly. I swallow. No way...Skurge wouldn't...would he? Just as he steels himself and lifts the ax, a look of utter remorse and horror at his own actions on his face, Hela steps forward. "Wait." She orders, walking forward. The Asgardians, still shocked, part before her and suddenly, she's two feet away from me. I swallow. "You." She states, almost curiously, glaring at me. "You're not from Asgard." She muses. "...Midgardian, what is your name?" She asks, eyes narrowing further. Figuring I'd better not risk what would happen should I not give her what she wants, I lick my lips.

"Roslyn." I stammer, shaking in terror as she grips my chin, stepping back from the crowd and her nails dig into my skin as she half-drags me with her. I go half on tip-toes just to make sure her nails didn't break my skin.

"Skurge, you can keep your petty toy, as long as get on with your job." She hisses, all but throwing me at Skurge before resuming her place before her wolf-thing. Skurge looks weak with relief and terror as he eases me back to my feet and turns back to the cowering woman before him. Once more, he lifts the ax, but then a man steps forward.

"I know where the sword is." He yells, desperate to be heard before the deed was done. Skurge immediately lowers the ax. The man explains that there is a kind-of magically sealed bunker in the mountains and that that's where Heimdall was taking Asgardians until they could be evacuated.

"Well done, commoner." Hela congratulates the guy once he's finished, smiling evilly as the man slumps in guilt over his betrayal. "Come, Skurge. And bring your toy, but keep her on a short leash, or you won't like what happens next." Now I was over the shock of meeting the Goddess of Death, I bristle slightly at the demeaning way Hela spoke about me.

Not enough to say or do anything, but I was still highly annoyed. And thus began a hike through the woods to the mountains. Not a word is said as we move closer to this supposed bunker.

Worst.

Hike.

 _Ever_. Thankfully, it wasn't too far up the mountain. But...would those people have any warning? Or would I have to watch as thousands are slaughtered?

That thought stops me in my tracks. Of course, Hela takes no notice as tears prick my eyes. This was all becoming so heavy, so unbelievably heavy, and I was nearly broken under its weight.

It startles me when Skurge places a gentle hand on the small of my back as he walks. It's subtle, hardly even noticeable, but there and my legs respond automatically. How is he so big, so brash, but yet...so gentle?

"We can't stop." He says lowly, so Hela can't hear. I blink. 'We'?

Maybe Skurge isn't so bad, after all...okay, sure he kidnapped me and stole a _bunch_ of stuff just cus he could, but...he at least had the decency to make sure I wouldn't be hurt.

Right? Or was this just another 'if I don't, there will be consequences' type thing?

Ugh, my brain hurts!

Is he a good guy or not?! Maybe one day, I'll find out. But, for now, I guess I have to keep walking and pray the people somehow had warning and were able to leave.

I barely hold in my scream as I leap back when Hela literally makes giant knife-spear things appear out of nowhere, slamming noisily into the walls around the doors. She then pulls them back out, and the doors form a bridge.

I try not to collapse in relief as I see the cavern deserted.

Then, as if something caught their attention, Skurge and Hela turn to look behind us. I frown, but know better than to ask before we're off running. After a few hundred yards, I'm a wheezing mess, having not run in a while. Suddenly, I'm swept off my feet and tucked like a sack of potatoes under Skurge's arm. Knowing it was pointless to resist, I try and catch my breath.

In a shorter time than I thought possible, I was at some big building in almost the exact center of Asgard. Turns out, it's some kind of palace, with a _huge_ entry hall, ending in a large, ornate golden throne with...Thor, sitting there, holding some really weird looking spear-thing. Also, his hair looks really sloppily cut off.

Is it bad that it only makes him hotter? I was normally ambivalent about the God of Thunder, acknowledging his handsomeness without being a weird fangirl about it, but _now_? I might just consider myself more of a fan.

I am getting way too attached to men I've just met. Ugh.

"Sister." He greets icily. I blink. Wait...what?!

"You're still alive." Hela retorts, like Thor was an annoying cockroach that kept coming back into her house.

"Love what you've done with the place." Thor muses idly, glancing around. I do, too, to find some remnants of stone scattered in evidence something had happened here. I look up and see bloody murals of cultures being decimated and Hela proudly leading armies to battle, wielding Thor's hammer! I officially don't think I've ever been more confused in my life! "Redecorating, I see." There was underlying tension between the apparent siblings. A hand on my shoulder startles me. It's Skurge. I glare at him and turn back to the conversation happening in front of me, absently knocking his hand off. Call me petty, but I wanted him to know I was upset with him.

"It seems our father's solution to every problem was to cover it up." Hela muses.

"Or to cast it out." Thor replies like he knows this first-hand. Cocking a brow, I dismiss being curious because my brain was about to overload with the million and counting questions in my head right now. "He told you you were worthy; he said the same thing to me." Was that sadness in Thor's voice?

"You see?" Hela encourages smugly. "You never knew him. Not at his best." Skurge taps my shoulder again, but I swat his hand away. "Odin and I drowned entire civilizations in blood and tears. Where do you think all this gold came from?" I swallow. Whoa… "And then, one day, he decided to be a benevolent king, to foster peace, to protect life, to have _you_." Thor seemed relatively unfazed to find out his father seemed to have been a homicidal maniac once upon a time.

Just then, Skurge has had enough playing nice, apparently, and tosses me once again over his shoulder. As with the first time, I felt his armor digging into my hips painfully. Growling, but knowing better than to make a scene and attract Hela's attention, I wait til he plops me down in a side room to speak.

"You have _got_ to stop doing that!" I growl, rubbing my hips. Skurge slams his hands on either side of me, but in anger at my behaviour or relief that we'd managed to get away from Hela, I can't tell.

"You have a death wish." He growls, eyes dark.


End file.
